


Malediction

by Gimmickry



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on deviantArt, Crossdressing, M/M, Swearing, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:39:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gimmickry/pseuds/Gimmickry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An apprentice witch and a cursed prince, both intertwined by a destiny most grim. As the Wheel of Fate turns, they must learn that even the strongest of spells cannot prevent the inevitable. /AU Blindshipping/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hansel and Gretel

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! is the intellectual property of Takahashi Kazuki. 
> 
> A/N: Special thanks to my friends Uniaika and An_Inkling for their tremendous help! I wouldn’t have been able to do make it without you guys!

" _There lives a witch in the woods.”_

 – that was the rumour, anyway. What people spoke of, what they believed in; even if they tried to deny it. Old men, drunk off their minds, or otherwise crazy, swore up and down for it to be true if you happened to ask them about it. They would spin you stories of how the forest was alive, how the plants and the trees seemed to move when you weren’t looking, and how eerily dark the whole place was, even in the daytime – the Turtle Forest wasn’t known for its unusually thick foliage for nothing.

The old men’s words would disappear with the cigar smoke, gone as soon as you left the inn, but a part or two of the story would still always linger in the very back of your mind, resurfacing in the dark hours of the night. Like the smell of tobacco, the rumour stuck.

Gossiping women grasped their silver jewellery like the sheath of a dagger when they spoke of it, and parents told their children not to play in the woods. This was exactly what Jounouchi’s mother had told him and his sister when they had been little –

– but Jounouchi wasn’t so little anymore. Besides, people gossiped about the prince being cursed, too – and Atem was as far from being cursed as one could get: the guy was practically the epitome of good health!

Nevertheless, the point still stood; either there was a witch, or there wasn’t – and quite frankly, Jounouchi didn’t care to know whether or not the story was really true.

He was desperate, and would take any chance he could.

Shizuka was getting worse by the day; she couldn’t even paint anymore. The landscape she had been working on for weeks had had to be left unfinished; for how could she paint a view she couldn’t see anymore? When she had put down her fine detail brush (the handle was ivory, and it was the single most expensive gift her brother had got for her for her birthday) saying that she wouldn’t paint anymore, Jounouchi, like the fool he was, had had to promise her the impossible: his little sister would finish the painting, no matter what.

_“Ya can’t leave things hanging like that, ya know? It ain’t good!”_

_“Pot and kettle, brother…”_

_“H-hey!”_

Shizuka would paint again; he’d see to it –

– even if it meant asking help from a witch.

* * *

He had stumbled over roots and the thick flora – his hands were scraped and covered with a thin layer of moss, moisture running from between his fingers. He was leaning on a tree, feeling the rough bark prickle his palm like unspun wool.

The forest had been a dark and cold place, but where Jounouchi stood now, there was light. He had found a clearing.

He had found the witch’s house.

It was a small cottage; a cosy cabin with a thatch roof and round windows. There were pots on every windowsill, sprouting flowers and vine plants of every shape and size. A lone horseshoe hang over the front door, no doubt hung up there to bring good luck.

Really, the place didn’t look threatening at all – aside from the few plants Jounouchi could have sworn were _moving_ – but the at the moment, the cottage was the least of his worries.

There was someone standing in the yard.

The small figure, veiled in robes, seemed to be sweeping the doorstep. The broom they were holding was big and sturdy: the handle had been crafted of gnarly wood, and the end made of bunched up branches.

It was undoubtedly a witch’s broom.

Jounouchi froze, having suddenly lost all the courage he had managed to gather so far. There _was_ a witch, there _was_ –!

_Turn around, you stupid boy, or else you’ll be a frog for the rest of your live –!_

– and at that moment, he was off, running back into the darkness, away from the clearing and its warmth. He stumbled over his own feet, feeling his ankles getting ensnared by the plant stems and long blades of grass. One false step – the world tilted.

He swallowed dirt.

It tasted like shame.

* * *

Jounouchi didn’t know how long he had been lying there: but suddenly, the ground didn’t feel so cold – or that hard – anymore. It took him a while to realize that he was being lifted upright.

“H-hey, are you alright?”

A hooded face appeared into his line of sight. It was frowning, looking worried.

“Can you hear me?”

It was also wearing robes.

Jounouchi jumped, shrieking. He was on his feet in seconds, already taking running steps to gain distance from the witch, feverishly scanning his surroundings for cover. But it was too late; the witch had caught his wrist.

“Hey, hey, don’t move – y-you might have a concussion!”

_“PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!”_

Jounouchi squeezed his eyes shut, blood roaring in his ears. He quivered, tensed like a bow, muscles coiled and ready – if the witch let go, even for a second, he would be able to escape. He’d run, even if the witch chased him, he’d run like the devil itself was hot on his heels –

“Wha –? Oh no, you must have hit your head really hard…”

Jounouchi heard rustling, and something soft was pressed against his forehead.

“Hold that there, okay? I’ll see if I can stop the bleeding.”

He felt numb. His skin prickled, he couldn’t see –

“H-hey, don’t faint!”

Worried eyes invaded his blurring vision. They were an odd colour ( _mauve_ , Shizuka would say) but…

They were human eyes. Not black, nor slit like a cat’s or a snake’s. Just a pair of worried, perfectly ordinary human eyes.

Jounouchi’s knees folded under him, and he fell into a slump.

The figure stilled, but nevertheless continued to press the fabric against his forehead.

“You okay…?”

To his horror, Jounouchi heard himself laugh. It was a high, wheezing giggle, wrenched out of a dry throat. He was shaking like a leaf; he could hear his earring jingle jarringly with each breath he forced out.

“Are ya…” he eventually coughed out, “are ya the witch?”

_Please don’t kill me – hah, ya were right old man, your brat is a coward alright…_

“…witch?”

“Yeah,” Jounouchi continued, suddenly feeling apologetic: this kid was trying to help him, a complete stranger, and here he was, freaking out.

_Way to go, champ._

“I-I mean of course ya aren’t, and I’m being jumpy for nothing and crazy like that, sorry buddy –“ he blabbered, feeling heat rise onto his face. Crap, how embarrassing; he’d have to apologize –

“Well, I’d say an apprentice would be a better word; I´m not full-fledged yet. I still haven’t passed my exams. After that, though –”

With a soft _thud_ , Jounouchi fainted.

* * *

The fire crackled merrily in gratitude as it was fed. The witch wiped their hands on their robes, smudging the forest green fabric with bits of charcoal.

“How are you feeling?”

Jounouchi swallowed, keeping his eyes shut. Maybe he could still manage to pull off playing dead…

A hand pressed against his brow.

“Come on, look here. I want to see if your eyes work…”

_“So ya could use them for soup, right?”_

Jounouchi was still in a bit of a dazed state of mind, as he _had_ hit his head a few moments prior, and thus it took him a good moment or two to realize that he had been betrayed by his mouth yet again; he had blurted his personal worst-case scenario out loud.

The witch, however, didn’t seem to even acknowledge this slip-up; they were still too busy prying his eyes open.

“A-ha!” they finally cried in a triumphant tone, and Jounouchi squealed as something bright invaded his pupils.

“Oh, sorry! I guess I should’ve warned you...stay still, please!”

A hand gripped his jaw firmly, and tilted his face to the side.

“…yeah, all clear! You’re fine!”

The hand let go, and his head fell back onto the pillow ( _pillow? where had that come from?_ ) His eyes stung, but at least they were still attached to his skull.

“Haha, sorry…but geez, did you give me a scare or what! Falling over like that – you’re lucky nothing’s broken!”

What was this warm sensation in his cheeks again? Oh yeah – embarrassment. Jounouchi coughed, regretting the action immediately as his dry throat began its objecting.

Something was pushed into his hand.

Jounouchi opened his eyes – a small clay cup sat innocuously in his grasp, puffing out steam in lazy, white swirls. It felt warm against his numb fingers, and the surface was rough enough to get a good grip on – it was nothing like holding one of those china cups found in the royal dining hall; those little bastards were so smooth that they’d slip right out of your hands if you as much as moved a pinkie.

“Here you go – drink if you’re thirsty.”

He eyed the witch tiredly. He _was_ thirsty, after all that running and screaming: not to mention that his throat felt like it was just about to dry shut. So what if he drank poison?

So Jounouchi tilted the cup in his shaking fingers, and downed the drink.

For a poison, the taste sure was sweet.

“Do you like it?”

He nodded, sighing – warm and sweet, a little like Shizuka’s tea –

_Shizuka!_

The cup fell right past his fingers – the witch caught it just before it was about to hit the floor.

“H-hey! What’s wrong –?”

“ _Please, if ya really are a witch, then – th-then please help my sister!_ ”he shouted – it was now or never, he’d have to at least try, or he would never be able to forgive himself.

“She – she’s going blind – a-and I promised she’d finish her painting! Please – please, help her!”

Eyes squeezed shut, Jounouchi bowed: “I-I’ll do anything!”

Silence reigned, heavy and pressing. He was sweating; he felt the salt beads run across his neck, felt the gaze of the witch burn his nape. Were they judging him? On being worthy – or if he’d make a decent snack?

_I’m sorry, sis…_

“….are they cloudy?”

Jounouchi’s head snapped up, his eyes wide.

“H-huh?”

The witch, their features still partly hooded by the cloak, looked at him solemnly. The eyes that had looked so very human and worried at the forest, were now very serious – serious, but still not unkind.

“Her eyes, are they cloudy? Do the pupils still focus?”

Cloudy? Like – like Miss Kisara’s, the weaver’s? She was the best clothmaker in town, perhaps in the whole wide world, despite having been born blind. She had really curious-looking eyes, too – but Jounouchi’s mother had told him not to ask about them; apparently it would have been really rude. Of course, he hadn’t understood it, back then…anyway, it wasn’t as if they were an ugly pair of eyes. Different, yes, but certainly not ugly. With her eyes looking like they were always covered in eternal mist, she had reminded Jounouchi of Priestess Isis, who witnessed visions of the days to come.

Her eyes were pretty – but nowhere near similar to his sister’s. Shizuka’s eyes were always clear and bright, and positively glowing when she was happy.

“Nah, they ain’t cloudy one bit!” he finally said, smiling to himself. His little sister had the brightest pair of eyes he had ever seen – and if he had his way, they would stay that way, too.

A heavy _thud_ jolted him out of his happy thoughts. He swivelled his head from side to side, looking around, and he saw the witch hustle about, checking some tall oak shelves. A package had fallen down onto the floor.

“Ah – there it is! Wait a moment, okay?”

The next thing he knew, a pungent smell filled the small hut. He recoiled, gagging.

“Sorry – I know, pretty strong stuff, huh? It’s really effective, though!”

Grabbing something from the box, which looked like a bunch of dried leaves, the witch picked up a mortar, and crammed the mystery ingredient into it. Working swiftly, they ground about, until small puffs of powder spilled over the rim of the cup.

They poured the powder – that to Jounouchi, looked like condensed rust – into a small glass vial; water followed suit, sluiced from a small pitcher standing on the coffee table. After a good shake, the substance dissolved; leaving behind clear, red-tinted liquid.

“Here,” the witch said, pressing the vial into Jounouchi’s still numb hand: “a drop per eye, twice a day. It stings, but it’ll work.”

Suddenly, the witch frowned, and when they spoke next, their words were soft, apologetic: “This stuff will prevent the retinae from deteriorating further, but I´m afraid it won’t repair all the damage done.”

There was a small upturn of lips.

“Your sister will paint soon, though – that I can promise. I mean, she’ll probably need glasses, but – “

Jounouchi couldn’t control himself – his arms were around the witch (they were _tiny_!) and before he knew it, he was hugging the kid to death.

“Th-thank you!” he sighed out, suddenly feeling out of breath, as if he had just ran another marathon.

“Y-you’re welcome!” they sputtered, and Jounouchi let them go. He looked at the small vial in his hands, unable to stop a grin from spreading onto his face. Shizuka would be alright – she’d paint again, and he would buy her all the brushes she’d ever want –!

_Oh._

His grin froze.

He didn’t have any money with him.

This was a cure for blindness that he held in his hands – a single drop alone from this vial must have been worth a small fortune. A servant like him could never afford something like this; why hadn’t he thought of it before? All this work for nothing –

“Take it.”

The witch’s voice was gentle as they led him out of the cottage. The yard seemed so much greener now; had the flowers truly been this colourful the first time he had seen them? And that one _definitely_ moved –

“Here,” the witch said. They held a handkerchief to him.

Jounouchi laughed, his voice sounding clogged.

“T-thanks.”

He wiped his eyes – why was he tearing up like this? He was a _man_ , damn it! – and after the witch shook their head, he pocketed the napkin. He slowly began to walk, feeling unsteady; like his legs could fail at any moment. He felt oddly light-headed.

He was about to leave, already at the very edge of the clearing, when something possessed him, and he turned around:

“H-hey! What’s your name?”

The figure, still standing on the doorstep, lowered their hood: Jounouchi almost tripped over his feet all over again.

_W-what the hell? The kid looks like –!_

Plumes of black and red hair spilled out of their clothed confines, spreading out like the mane of a lion. Goldenrod bangs framed a childlike face; a face that was now grinning brightly.

“Yuugi!” the witch shouted; he sounded like he was holding back laughter –

“Mutou Yuugi!”

 


	2. Little Brother and Little Sister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for giving this story a kudos!

“Shizuka, stop your staring and help me with the laundry, please!”

The girl sitting by the window jolted at the sudden voice.

“Yes, Mother,” she said quietly, stealing one last glance at the outside. The view was blurry to her, especially now that the sun had begun setting, but even so, she was sure that she would have been able to see if her brother was coming. But the yard remained empty.

Sighing, she stood up and joined her mother, who was already busily scrubbing away at the washboard.

“I wonder where he is…?” she asked herself in half a murmur, as she picked up something that turned out to be a shirt – Mrs. Kawai unbuttoned it for her –

“You never know with that rascal; he’s probably out causing trouble again –“

“Mother!”

“– perhaps even pulling His Highness into his high jinks.”

Mrs. Kawai stopped as she saw her daughter frown. “Oh, Shizuka,” she laughed, “I´m just joking, dear. I´m sure Katsuya is fine; he has probably just forgotten to wind up his watch again.”

Shizuka didn’t answer; she was still feeling a little unsure. Her brother had left the house early this morning, and she remembered that he had seemed somehow nervous, being more quiet than usual. He hadn’t told her where he was going, either, which she thought had been a bit odd.

_“Hey sis, I´m leaving now – dunno when I´ll be back. Be good, okay?”_

But then again, maybe Mother was right, and he had just forgotten the time of day again; it wasn’t exactly rare for him to do that.

Shaking her head, Shizuka did her best to banish the budding anxiety from her mind; it would do no one any good to start worrying now. Her brother would come home, sooner or later. Maybe he was staying overnight at the castle again, and would return in the morning.

But she didn’t have to wait for that long – two hours later, when the sky was already being dotted with tiny lights, her brother appeared in the doorway, startling them both.

He looked exhausted, panting and holding his side. His clothing was torn at some places, his pant legs full of tiny holes, and his cloak was smudged with moss.

His head was bandaged, too.

“Oh, brother…!” Shizuka cried, distressed, “What happened to you…?”

But he simply grinned like the sun when he saw her, and he ran up to her to lift her into a hug.

“Sis, sis!” he laughed as he twirled her around, “I found it – I got the cure for ya!”

* * *

Neither of them had believed Jounouchi, at first. His mother had got really angry actually, screaming at him for daring to pull such a cruel joke: with tears brimming in her eyes (that looked so very tired) she had told him to stop lying.

_“Don’t talk like that, Katsuya! You know this is hard for us – don’t make it any worse!”_

He had just grinned, showing them the vial, claiming enthusiastically how it would cure Shizuka, and how she would paint again, just as he had promised. But when the two had continued to disbelieve him, with his mother shouting and his sister near tears and begging him to stop, he felt like someone had slapped him in the face.

Jounouchi hadn’t honestly known what to do. He had been so sure that they would have been elated to hear the news, but now it seemed that he had only managed to make the situation worse. Then again, who could have blamed them? Blindness was only cured in fairy tales; it didn’t happen in real life. False hope was a cruel thing to give to someone – especially to your loved ones.

And the witch had been really creepy, too (Jounouchi had promised himself that he would never-ever venture into the woods again.) The dude was a seriously weird guy who looked _way_ too much like Atem; but nevertheless, Jounouchi found himself trusting the witch’s concoction. Maybe he would regret it later, but if the vial he was clutching in his hand truly held the key to Shizuka’s happiness, then he would be willing to take the risk.

It took him a long time to calm his mother and sister down. He had given them a promise after promise, desperate to show Shizuka that her brother wasn’t a liar; she would paint, she would, just trust your big brother on this.

Eventually, they had given in, tired, and in the end, just as desperate for the glimmer of hope as him. And even though Jounouchi had felt a knot in his stomach at the sight of Shizuka gritting her teeth as the medicine stung her eyes, somehow, he knew that he had made the right choice.

* * *

It had been a long time; Jounouchi swore the days had never felt as long as they did now, and the nights seemed to last an eternity after another. The vial continued to grow lighter, drop by drop, slowly but steadily.

“ _It doesn’t sting as much anymore_ ,” she had told him one day, when he had been reading one of her books to her out loud. She had smiled when saying that – and Jounouchi had felt that small glimmer of hope flare up dangerously.

_What if it doesn’t work? What then?_

The thoughts were keeping him awake at night, pestering him to the point of insomnia. Mother hadn’t been able to sleep well, either. She seemed so tired nowadays…

But then, one morning, just as the end of the month was starting to close in, Jounouchi found his sister sitting at the breakfast table –

– sketching.

The details were yet to be filled in, the drawing being just a rough charcoal croquis for now, but…the smile Shizuka gave him was all he had needed to see.

* * *

“Brother…”

Jounouchi grumbled, turning in his bed.

“G’away…’m sleepin’…”

He heard his sister chuckle.

“It’s well past midday, you lazy thing,” she giggled, and Jounouchi felt her pull him up by the arm. Squinting, he was forced to open his eyes. He blinked rapidly.

“Well, what do you think? I think it turned out pretty nicely…”

Jounouchi couldn’t really say what he thought of the finished painting, having just been woken up –

 – and it was really hard to see the details while crying, anyway.

* * *

The painted landscape was stunning; an absolute masterpiece. The sky, bathed in a spectrum of soft, yet vibrant colours, truly gave the impression of the break of dawn. Pinpricks of white paint seemed to glow against the hues of purple and periwinkle, representing the lone stars that hadn’t yet disappeared before the sun: like a pair of stubborn children refusing their bedtime.

The grass, as a contrast, was smudged in shades of viridian and celadon. The edges of the blades were blurred, their tips tinted violet underneath the sky. An old tree stood at the very edge of the painting – a tree that Jounouchi had recognized as the market place’s old oak – its branches swaying in the imaginary breeze.

It was an amazing painting, perhaps the best Shizuka had done to this day –

 – so why did she insist on giving it to the witch?!

“It’s a gift, brother – we have to express our gratitude somehow, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but do we hafta give it to him like, face to face? Can’t we just, I dunno, send it with an owl or something?”

Jounouchi swallowed a curse as he almost tripped over another root.

“I mean, this place is creepy, and the witch is creepy, too – didn’t I tell ya, he looks like –!”

“– like Prince Atem. Yes, I know, you’ve told me that many times already.”

“Exactly! The guy is not alright, lemme tell ya – he, he must be some kind of a dop…doppel –“

Shizuka sighed: “Doppelgänger of the prince or not…”

“That’s it!”

“…he did help you when you hit your head, and give you the medicine even though you were undoubtedly acting very rude. So, he can’t be that bad of a person,” she said, securing the canvas more tightly under her arm. “Come on, I think I see the clearing!”

Jounouchi shuddered, but followed suit, kicking stray stems out of his way.

He _really_ didn’t want to get turned into a frog.

* * *

“Ah – you must be…?”

The witch had been sweeping the yard again; he stood there, a tiny figure dressed in layers of robes, holding the same gnarly broom.

“O-oh, yes –“ Shizuka stuttered, suddenly feeling a little nervous herself,  “I’m Kawai Shizuka, and this is my brother Katsuya…though he prefers to be called Jounouchi.”

Jounouchi grumbled something that might have been a very well-masked greeting: neither of them were quite sure.

The witch smiled.

“Oh yeah, I remember your brother – though I didn’t get his name last time” – at this, Shizuka elbowed Jounouchi in the side, giving him a harsh sideways glance.

“I’m sorry about him, he can forget his manners sometimes – h-huh?”

The witch had moved right in front of her, and was now peering into her eyes – Jounouchi bristled, hand poised and ready to grab the boy.

“Yeah, looks like they’ve healed up pretty nicely – they don’t itch, do they?”

“Wha –? N-no, my eyes are fine!” Shizuka took a step back, shooting her brother another warning glare.

“You can paint again, yes?”

Shizuka smiled, her eyes sparkling at the mention of her favourite pastime: “Yes, yes I can – in fact, we came here to give you this – as, as a thank you.”

She lifted up the canvas, and undid the knot that held the cloth covering the painting in place, unveiling the piece of art.

The witch’s eyes widened – Jounouchi held back a laugh. His sister was an amazing painter alright; talented enough to knock the socks off from a witch, no less!

“W-wow!” the boy breathed out, sounding absolutely amazed, “you made this yourself? It’s beautiful!”

“Thank you!” Shizuka smiled, taking one final glance at her own work before handing it over. “I´m pretty proud of it myself, if I´m being honest…but, here you go!”

The witch blushed, holding the painting with unsure hands, looking as if he was afraid he’d drop it.

“R-really? I can have this?”

She nodded: “Yes! Think of it as a thank you gift of sorts!”

The boy smiled; suddenly, he turned around, gesturing them to follow:

“Come on, I’ll treat you to some tea while I put this up!”

Jounouchi groaned.

* * *

Shizuka didn’t know what was wrong with her brother – first, he insisted on not drinking the tea, claiming it could be poisoned; and now he was panicking over biscuits!

“They’re cursed – n-no, don’t –!”

Huffing at Jounouchi, she defiantly bit off a big chunk of the cookie. It tasted like cinnamon: sweet, and a little spicy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about – these are good.”

“Glad you like them!”

The witch was standing on a stepladder, his voice a bit muffled by the pair of nails he held between his lips.

“You think it’d look good here?”

“Yes – the lighting is great there, Yuugi-san.”

And with a few quick firm taps of the hammer, the painting was hung up over one of the round windows.

“There we go!” the witch exclaimed, climbing down from the ladder. He wiped his hands on his robes, grinning: “Wow, it really does fit there – ah?”

The witch looked forwards, seeming perplexed. Shizuka turned her head; what was he looking at?

Then she noticed that her brother was staring at something lying on one of the windowsills. It was a small, rectangle-shaped object, consisting of several stacked little –

“You duel?”

Jounouchi’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet; enough to slightly startle Shizuka.

“Uh – yeah, I do, a little. I’m a bit rusty, though – people don’t really come here often, so I don’t have anyone to duel with…”

As the witch talked to himself, Jounouchi had got up from his chair; his hand hovered over the deck of cards.

“Can I take a look?”

“Y-yeah, sure – go ahead!”

There was a pressing silence as Jounouchi flipped through the cards. Shizuka kept her cup inches away from her lips, holding her breath. She crossed her fingers; maybe this could work –

“Hey – _dude_ , ya got Gandora!”

The witch laughed, scratching the back of his head, embarrassed:

“Heh, yeah…he’s one my aces, honestly. Amazing on the field.”

Jounouchi grinned, turning the monster card in his hands.

“Amazing, sure – but no one can beat my Red-Eyes!”

The witch jumped.

“You’ve got Red-Eyes Black Dragon?” His eyes suddenly lit up, sparkling: “Oh, that’s so _cool_ –!”

“Hehe, yeah, it is, isn’t it? Has won me a good ton of duels, that card…hey, did ya know? This one time…”

Shizuka sighed, smiling into her tea.

* * *

“Silent Magician, attack! _Silent Burning_!”

“Urk!”

The attack wiped out the rest of Jounouchi’s life points, leaving them at a round zero. He leaned back on his chair, groaning.

“Man, you’re good! Taking out my Flame Swordsman like that…”

Yuugi smiled bashfully, blushing.

“You’re a good duelist yourself. That Time Wizard strategy…it almost caught me off guard.”

Jounouchi grinned: “He heh! Well, I don’t mean to brag, but…”

“Um, boys..?”

Both players turned their heads to Shizuka, who was standing by the door, looking somewhat apologetic.

“I hate to interrupt you, but…it’s getting dark outside. I think we should leave as long as there’s daylight left…”

“Oh, shoot!” Jounouchi exclaimed, jumping upright. He grabbed his cards, shuffling them haphazardly into something that, if only remotely, resembled a pile, and shoved them into their holster.

“I completely forgot the time – Mom’s gonna be pissed!” he moaned, fighting to cram his feet into his shoes. Shizuka giggled at his efforts while putting on her gloves.

“Thank you for the tea, Yuugi-san. I hope we’ll see again –”

Jounouchi slammed the door open, pulling Shizuka along by the arm.

“C´mon, or else we’ll be _so_ screwed…oh, yeah!”

With his foot hovering over the doorstep, he suddenly turned, grinning wildly:

“Yuugi! Ya owe me a rematch! Better be ready next time, ya hear!”

 – and the siblings were off, running into the darkness.

Yuugi stood at the door, watching the two shadows recede until they couldn’t be seen anymore. A soft smile tugged at his lips.

“Yeah…let’s duel again soon, Jounouchi-san.”

* * *

_Jounouchi came back the very next morning, banging on Yuugi’s door at eight A.M._

_He lost the duel_.

 

 


	3. Sleeping Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for bookmarking/commenting/giving this story a kudos!

The prince had collapsed in the middle of a game of chess.

 _“H-he…he just…fell. Over the game board, j-just like that,”_ the servant girl had stuttered when questioned, having served as an unwilling witness to the event, _“a-and…”_

Of course, it had been the screaming that had caught the attention of everyone in the castle. When the guards had arrived to the scene, they had found the prince twisting on his seat – as if it had suddenly become an electric chair – choking on his own screams. The servant had been apprehended immediately, tackled to the ground by three guards; but in fact, the girl had gone into such a shock herself that she wouldn’t have been able to escape, anyway.

They had been playing a friendly game of chess, according to her – “ _to alleviate the boredom; His Highness had been feeling terribly weary_ ” – when the prince had apparently slumped over the table in the middle of making his move.

_“I-I went to check on him, of course…b-but…”_

It seemed that the prince had suffered some kind of a seizure. The involuntary muscle spasms, causing pain, had also disrupted the flow of oxygen to the brain, which had eventually led to unconsciousness. However, no one knew what exactly had triggered this seizure: the prince, or his family for that matter, had no prior medical history on such an event or a condition.

According to the royal doctors, the episode hadn’t been inflicted by any outside stimuli – the servant girl had thus been declared innocent. This was rather fortunate, as now the royal court didn’t have to bother arranging a trial – but it soon became clear that they had a new, much more pressing issue at hand:

The prince had not woken up.

Despite the valiant efforts of doctors and other specialists, summoned from all over the kingdom, the prince had remained unresponsive to all and every treatment. The attempts made to awaken him had had no positive effect at all so far. In fact, it seemed to be the complete opposite, and the results they had got were rather worrying: the prince had begun to suffer from several disturbing side effects instead, his health seemingly deteriorating as the days went on.

One of these rather macabre symptoms was unexplainable and irrational self-destructive behaviour; unresponsive, yet not catatonic, the prince had managed to bring damage upon himself in spite of his unconscious state. For instance, a pair of nurses had found him banging his head against the headboard of his bed, hitting it hard enough to cause bruising and minor bleeding. Further inspection had also revealed dried up blood on the prince’s nails, matching the scratch marks that had steadily been appearing all over his body.

Concern over the prince’s wellbeing urgent, the doctors had decided to have him tied down to prevent further self-harm – however, this seemed to have only made the situation worse: in several instances, the prince had tugged on his restraints hard enough to snap them (earning him blistering rope burns), which meant that simple incapacitation wasn’t enough, but that he would have to be placed under constant watch instead.

However, only those with a strong stomach and an iron grip on their sanity could take upon the position of looking after the prince. It was said that the sight of him thrashing alone was enough to make even the calmest and the most composed of servants feel nauseous and weak in the knees – the human spine just wasn’t meant to _bend_ like that–

Of course, the screaming didn’t make the situation any better.

Moreover, people were beginning to _talk_.

Jounouchi was growing worried as well – the rumour about the witch had turned out to be true, so what prevented the curse from being real, too?

So, after several days and nights of listening to Atem’s screams echo all the way to the servants’ quarters, he made up his mind. Gathering all the courage he could muster, he made his way to the doors that led to the royal throne room – and requested an audience with the king.

The guards had laughed at him at first – for what a mere servant, a near court jester, could have to do with the king? Jounouchi’s uncharacteristically serious tone quieted them down, however:

“I need to speak with the King. It’s about the Prince.”

The audience was granted, much to everyone’s great surprise.

* * *

Kneeling there, feeling the red plush carpet sink under his weight, Jounouchi thought of Yuugi – his friend, the dueling witch. The two of them had truly grown close over these two years: hours’ worth of duels had slowly turned into conversations, jokes and laughter lasting on days on end. And finally, after shedding and sharing tears over Mrs. Kawai’s sudden departure, it felt like the two had truly become brothers in some strange sense.

Yuugi’s cabin had become a place of solace for Jounouchi; the round windows were the windows of a lighthouse, always guiding him to calmer waters when the sea got too rough. Was there any problem the little witch couldn’t fix with a single cup of tea and a few kind words? He seemed to always have the solution, no matter how sour things got.

He had been able to help his sister; surely, Jounouchi believed, he could help the prince as well.

“Your Majesty,” he began, his head still bowed, “I know someone who may be able to help Prince Atem.”

The king and the queen hadn’t believed him at first. That stupid rumour about the witch in the woods?

“ _Truly, you are testing our patience, boy_!”

But Jounouchi had told them about his sister; how her budding blindness had been cured, how the witch was real – real and a very close friend of his.

“Please, I’m asking ya to give me a chance – for Atem’s sake!”

For Atem was not only dear to his own parents, but to Jounouchi as well; the royal couple knew this to be true – they knew for certain that Jounouchi had Atem’s best interests in mind while making this otherwise outrageous proposal. The two of them were childhood friends, as Jounouchi had been serving the prince since his early teenage years. They could see that this situation was taking its toll on him as well (for who could sleep with a good conscience while knowing that their friend was suffering?)

Looking at his wife, who was by now close to tears, the king finally ordered Jounouchi to stand.

“Jounouchi Katsuya," the monarch said in a grave tone, causing Jounouchi to shiver slightly, “will you and this… _witch,”_ at this, his voice faltered a little, sounding uncertain, “promise to do your absolute best in aiding my son?”

Jounouchi could not help but grin defiantly, despite the solemn severity of the situation.

“Your Majesty, ya can leave it up to me and Yuugi! I’ll drag Atem out of this with my own hands if I hafta!”

And as Jounouchi grasped the reins in his hands, holding the sick prince steady on horseback, he prayed that what he had said would not turn out to be a lie.

* * *

“Yuugi! Yuugi! Help!”

The cottage’s door was open in seconds, with a worried Yuugi emerging just moments afterwards. As he saw who had arrived – Jounouchi riding a horse, carrying someone with him – he crossed the yard with quick steps, and helped his friend to dismount.

 The witch took one look at the shaking prince, and Jounouchi saw his expression change.

“Inside. Now.”

He hadn’t heard that tone of voice in a long time; not since his mother –

Jounouchi felt his mouth go dry, but he obeyed nonetheless. Judging from Yuugi’s reaction alone, this was serious. He made his way into the cabin, careful not to jostle the prince too much.

Yuugi secured the horse around a nearby tree trunk, and he gave the mare an absentminded pat on the head while his mind was already elsewhere, working on a solution. He followed after Jounouchi with a hasty pace, pulling the door shut behind him.

Throwing another quick glance at the prince, who was wrapped up in a travel cloak in Jounouchi’s arms, his chapped lips moving but not making any sounds, the witch came to a grim conclusion.

“We need an exorcism,” he finally muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.

“What –?!”

Jounouchi had been laying the prince down onto the small cot – the very same one he himself had been lying on two years ago – and he had now turned to his friend, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Ya gotta be kidding me – “

“I’m not,” the witch said, already busying himself with the big brass cauldron that was hovering over the fireplace. With a swift flick of his wrist, the flints in his hands connected, sparking. He gave the tinder a soft blow of air, and the fire began to kindle.

“He’s being possessed. We need to drive them out.”

“P-possessed? By what?”

“Shadows!”

“H-huh?!”

Jounouchi was about to turn around and ask what Yuugi had meant by that – how did one get possessed by shadows, anyway? – but the witch had already left the cabin to fetch water, leaving him alone with the prince.

Watching his friend writhe there, pale and ashen-faced, was almost too much for Jounouchi to bear. Shadows? How did they possess anyone – how had they managed to possess Atem, of all people? And why – why were they causing him so much pain?!

Jounouchi was jolted out of his musings by Yuugi, who had returned with a pail of water. He emptied a part of it into the cauldron, all the while murmuring softly under his breath. Dropping a few seemingly random ingredients into the pot – Jounouchi thought he saw a couple of bay leaves get added into the mix – he stirred the brew briskly before pouring the rest of the water into a small bowl. He carried it over to the prince.

“Jounouchi-kun, do you think you’ll be able to hold him down?”

“W-why?”

Yuugi’s expression gained a grim edge.

“This isn’t going to be pleasant. We need to make sure he won’t hurt himself – or us.”

Jounouchi swallowed thickly, feeling his face lose some its colour. It would only get worse from here? Would Atem even be able to survive…?

“Don’t worry,” a hand appeared on his shoulder, holding it encouragingly, “I promise I’ll do my best.”

Glancing at Yuugi, who was offering him a smile – a tight-lipped, unsure one, but a smile nonetheless – Jounouchi steeled himself, and nodded. Slowly, while apologizing to his friend, he sat on the cot so that the most of his weight rested on Atem’s legs, and he reached out to grab the prince’s wrists.

“Okay,” he finally sighed, his voice shaking slightly, “ready as I’ll ever be.”

Yuugi nodded: “Let’s go, then!”

And with that, Yuugi rolled up his sleeves, and wet his hands in the bowl – the icy water stung a bit, but he paid the pain no mind. Rubbing his palms together to make sure his hands were properly soaked, he reached out:

“Give me his hand.”

Jounouchi did as he said, letting go on one of Atem’s wrists. Grasping the limp arm firmly, Yuugi took a deep breath –

– and pulled.

“ **AaAaAAaAAaAA –!”**

Jounouchi shrieked, almost falling off the cot.

A black, screaming _something_ had emerged from Atem’s arm. It writhed in Yuugi’s grip, arching and twisting like a live snake, its skin bubbling like boiling tar.

“ **HoW DaRE YoU –!** ”

Screeching and screaming, the _thing_ cursed, its voice a complete cacophony, hurting their ears. It spat, the oily saliva landing on Yuugi’s robes, which gave away with a sizzle – holes as large as gold coins were being burned into the fabric. Grunting, the witch pulled harder, and the whole creature coiled, looking like it was about to retaliate; and like an asp, it stretched out, and struck.

Jounouchi was about to shout out a warning, but knew halfway that he wouldn’t make it in time. Fortunately, Yuugi was faster; catching the twisting figure with both hands, he gave it one more harsh yank, and the thing separated from Atem with a wet sound, like someone had dropped a soaked sponge onto the floor.

Not stopping, Yuugi threw the thing into the cauldron, where it shrieked loudly when hitting the boiling water – moaning until the sound died out into a low, menacing hiss.

Jounouchi stared at the black smoke rising from the fireplace, shocked.

“W-what…what the hell was _THAT_?” he eventually spluttered out, suddenly feeling weak – the adrenaline rush had almost left him light-headed. Atem groaned under him, muscles tensing; Jounouchi had to press down with his knees to keep the prince from arching upwards.

“That…was a Shadow,” Yuugi answered, dipping his fingers into the bowl, washing away any traces of the acid, “looks like they’ve been nesting in him for quite a while – they’ve managed to form a hive in there by now.”

“W-wait! You mean, there are _MORE_ of those things in there?!” Jounouchi shouted, absolutely horrified. A hive – there was a hive of those things in Atem? A nest, infested with those… _creatures_ – and they were writhing right under his skin like that?

“Do we…do we hafta, like, get rid of them all?”

“Yeah…” Yuugi answered, and secured his sleeves again while skimming over the burn marks, “well…one down, ninety-eight to go!” he said, trying his best to sound peppy.

“Give me his hand again, okay?”

Jounouchi sighed, having no other chance than to obey.

* * *

“ **YOu LiTTLe –!** ”

“ **SCHREeeEEEEeeeEEEch!”**

Yuugi was shaking, his hands aching under the vicious pull of the Shadows. The skin on his palms was broken, red budding bruising blossoming in great numbers alongside burning blisters. The lengths of his arms were riddled with shallow cuts, his pale skin slick with sweat and blood – it felt like someone was tickling his hands with lit matches.

Sweat was trickling past his brow, stinging his eyes and messing up with his vision; his bangs were obstructing his view, having been glued to his forehead, the stray hairs feeling like needles in his eyes. His knees were wobbling with each new yank, his fingers burned, knuckles white, as another cluster of parasites was removed: another slew of curses and acid was spat his way.

The acid had already burned through his sleeves, leaving behind fried and frizzed loose threads and first-degree burns. The stench of the Shadows’ saliva was clogging up his nostrils, forcing its way down his throat, coating the insides of his trachea with its intangibleness. It made his head spin; it was getting harder for him to breathe – he felt like he was drawing in smoke instead of oxygen.

His head throbbed, and the fatigue that had steadily been creeping upon him for hours was now starting to gain the upper hand on him; he was slipping – but he couldn’t give up now, they were so close!

_Just one more –!_

He swayed on his feet. Jounouchi’s voice sounded like it was coming somewhere far way:

“Hey, Yuugi? Ya okay – need a break?”

Another Shadow bit into his flesh, furious of having been ripped away from its home. With a quick flick, it, too, joined its siblings in the cauldron. Smoke continued to rise from the fireplace, thickening with each new Shadow thrown into the boiling waters.

The stench was starting to resemble rotting carcasses.

The hissing in the cauldron had steadily been growing into an unending roar of curses and screams, echoing without a stop, swirling in the depths of the ever-darkening water, now murky enough to resemble tar. The Shadows’ words were cutting: they were dishing out insults and swears long forgotten, droning out everything else – Yuugi was desperately wishing for someone to cover his ears. They were ringing; he could feel the pressure building, straining against his ear drums –

_Just…just one MORE –_

“YUUGI!”

Jounouchi saw the witch collapse, the bowl of water spilling all over the floor.

Yuugi gasped, having fallen over, struggling to draw in a breath.

“Th-that…that was the last one”, he finally wheezed out in a shaky voice, counting the numbers again in his head to be sure.

“Y-yeah, ninety-nine, that’s it…just…give me a minute. Need to breathe…”

Stomach churning with worry, Jounouchi watched as Yuugi tried to upright himself. He couldn’t help him, his hands were full in trying to keep Atem still, even though the prince had now begun to visibly calm down (he was no longer trying to claw at himself, and the bleeding was slowly coming to a stop, too.)

Finally, as the stretched seconds ticked by in an agonizing silence, Yuugi managed to pull himself up. He was shaking from head to toe, now looking almost as ashen as the prince himself.

“W-wait a moment, Jounouchi-kun…I-I’ll be back soon.”

On shaky feet, Yuugi made his way into the backroom.

* * *

The Pendant felt heavy in his shaking hands, making him feel almost nauseous. He had no right to touch it, let alone take it, do what he was about do –

_Master…_

 – but at the same time, he had a life to save.

The Millennium Pendant was an heirloom of his master, having been passed down in his family for many generations. It was also the only artefact available to Yuugi that would be powerful enough – possessing strong and ancient _mana_ – to seal up the Shadows. Any other token would prove out to be all too brittle.

_I can’t let him die – isn’t that what being a witch is? Helping those in need?_

He just hoped he was making the right choice.

_Master…please, forgive me._

* * *

“Yuugi…ya feeling alright there, buddy?”

Yuugi had emerged from the backroom, looking solemn, while holding something that looked like a big golden upside-down pyramid. He didn’t seem to have heard Jounouchi, because instead of answering, he had simply gone and dipped the pyramid into the cauldron, letting it simmer. The Shadows screeched, their voices muddling together, until all there was left were low, muffled murmurs.

 Finally, after what seemed like a long time, Yuugi lifted the Pendant out of the water, sighing.

“This…could get a little dangerous...”

With that, he walked away from the fireplace, and placed the pyramid onto the floor, in the middle of a rune circle he had prepared earlier – to Jounouchi, the whole thing looked like something a kid would scribble down in their maths book.

Grabbing his staff (which was long, many inches taller than Yuugi himself, crafted from the same gnarly wood as his broom – it resembled a crooked cane) Yuugi tapped one of the runes with the tip of his shoe, activating the spell.

Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise up, Jounouchi watched how the magic worked its way through the runes, lighting them up one by one. No matter how many times he saw Yuugi perform one of his spells, the sudden presence of magic was always enough to give him the goose bumps: the sensation was pressing, like there was someone constantly peering over your shoulder.

“…take cover, Jounouchi-kun.”

He nodded and crouched down, shielding himself and Atem as best as he could in his current position.

With a cry, Yuugi brought his staff down like a sword.

The Pendant exploded.

Tiny pieces of metal, now glowing red from the heat caused by the sudden magical reaction, shot across the room like bullets, ricocheting when hitting the ceiling, and denting the walls. With a loud _CRASH_ , a window was shattered, and Jounouchi could hear the horse neigh in fright outside.

He felt like his back was being scorched – even the thick coat he had been wearing wasn’t able to block out the heat. He gripped Atem’s hand, praying that they wouldn’t get hit by any stray pieces. He smelled something burning, smoke invading his senses, and the ground seemed to quake under his feet –

 – and as soon as it had begun, it ended.

A hand met his back, and Jounouchi turned to look. Yuugi stood next to him, looking weary but satisfied; a victorious grin spread out on his face.

“Now…let’s wake him up, shall we?”

 


	4. Snow White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for bookmarking/commenting/giving this story a kudos!

An ache – a dull, throbbing, full-body ache was what Atem felt. There was no other way to describe it: he hurt, inside out and all over. Yet the sensation seemed somewhat muffled; there was no stinging, no sharp prickling to the pain, as if it had had its edge smoothened out long ago. 

Distantly, the feeling reminded him of a hangover.

_Seto is going to kill me._

He could swear that he hadn’t drunk anything – then again, if he had, he wouldn’t probably remember –

_I’m going to get quartered._

It must have been Mana, right? Her drinks were notorious; cloyingly sweet, yet addicting, they were guaranteed to provide you a glorious buzz, only to come and bite you in the ass the very next morning.

_Please hang me._

Although he had kept his eyes closed, Atem could easily sense that it was well over midday: in a few minutes, Seto would crash into his quarters to give him the ear-lashing equivalent of a hammer to the head. It would be no use trying to evade this fate.

_Well, time to face the music, I suppose…_

He squinted his eyes, already hearing the approaching boom that was Kaiba Seto –

“Ah – looks like he's coming to, Jounouchi-kun!”

– except that didn’t sound like Seto at all. In fact, though his brain was no doubt performing a bit sluggishly right now, Atem could swear that he hadn’t heard that kind of a voice before. It seemed to sound…relieved, somehow –

– and suddenly a voice that Atem had _definitely_ heard before (daily, in fact, if he were to be more specific) filled his senses, reverberating through his very bones:

“ _ATEM_!”

“SHUT UP!”

Atem’s hands sprang up to cover his ears, relying on pure instinct. No, he would not listen to Jounouchi while suffering from a hangover. He refused – he could not, would not do that.

But then, unexpectedly, he was hugged – and this was no tackle hug, a speciality of his friend – but a desperate feat: the arms around him were wound all too tight, the fingers dug too deep.

Atem’s eyes snapped open as he felt dread trickle down his spine. The only two times this had happened before had been around circumstances that he preferred not to reminisce about: first, there had been the news of Shizuka’s declining eyesight, and second, Mrs. Kawai’s…

“Jou…nouchi…”

His voice sounded oddly hoarse to his own ears; had he had a singing contest with Mana again?

“Oh, th-thank you…you’re awright!”

Alright? Well yeah, his head was killing him, but he wasn’t exactly dying, either…

“I-I thought…thought ya…ya were gonna k-kick the b-b-bucket!”

– except apparently he _had_ been close to death, as it was more or less crudely worded by Jounouchi.

_What…what’s going on? What happened while I was out?_

Suddenly, a hand touched his shoulder. He looked up –

“How are you feeling?”

 – only to encounter a mirror.

A short figure – a boy – stood before him, dressed in robes. He had a mess of a mane, its colours and style all too close to Atem’s own. His eyes, they were about the same shade, too, at least at first glance: though rounder, and possessing a somehow gentle look to them.

“W-who…?” he rasped, hating how brittle his voice sounded right now.

The boy smiled, his lips pulling up to a curve.

“Mutou Yuugi, Your Highness.”

_Mutou…Yuugi…_

That name rang a bell; Atem was sure that he had heard it before. But with his mind hazy, feeling like someone had decided to line it with cobwebs, he was in no shape to try and remember when or where exactly he had heard such a name – and he didn’t have to, as Jounouchi beat him to it:

“Yeah, this is Yuugi – the dueling witch!”

“Jounouchi-kun!” the boy cried. He looked flustered, and Atem couldn’t help but to watch with interest as the previously pale cheeks rapidly gained colour.

“That…that’s so embarrassing! Please don’t introduce me like that!”

“What? I think it’s cool…I mean, you’re a witch, and a killer duelist, too! Makes sense!”

“I’m still just an apprentice!”

_The dueling witch…_

Atem’s thoughts came to a sudden, abrupt halt.

“W-wait a minute!” he spluttered, taken aback, “…you mean this boy here...i-is the imaginary friend you always babble about?”

“ _Imaginary_?!” Jounouchi cried, feeling thoroughly insulted. Offended as he was, he grabbed Atem’s hand, and slapped it against Yuugi’s; the dark fingers curled limply around the boy’s arm on their own volition.

“Feel that? That ain’t imaginary!”

As soon as Atem felt the pale skin meet his palm, he blanched. The arm was certainly anything but a fragment of someone’s mind. Covered in sweat, burns, and shallow cuts oozing already partially clotted blood, the sight alone made him shiver; and touching the broken skin sent straight-out chills down his spine.

“What happened to you…?” he muttered, eyes widening in horror; how could someone get such injuries?

Yuugi slowly pried his arm free, cradling it in his shredded sleeves. He shook his head, opting not to answer, but to ask instead:

“…Your Highness, do you remember anything about what has happened?”

Atem stared at him for a moment, and then laughed:

“I probably drank too much and passed out, I think. It happens sometimes,” he chuckled, but stopped abruptly when he noticed how serious the two suddenly looked.

Finally, Yuugi spoke, his voice soft and slow:

“Your Highness…you were being possessed, for a long time.”

* * *

_Priestess Isis shook, her eyes rolling, body shivering as a vision took hold of her._

_“ **Shadows** …” she rasped, her voice no longer deep and soothing like before, but a shriek of a legion, speaking with the mouths of many. The young prince cried out, terrified._

_“ **From the corners of the Paradise, They slither…wearing the skin of the Crown…** ”_

_“Mama!”_

_“ **Thou shall lead this land to ruin**!”_

* * *

“Possessed?” Atem laughed, “That’s what they call getting smashed nowadays?”

“Atem…” Jounouchi began, starting to look sickeningly worried – Atem stood up, forcing the nausea away.

“Thank you for curing my hangover” he said, “but I think we should – _ouch_!”

Yuugi had poked him in the side, making the prince cringe.

“You’re not going anywhere,” the witch commanded, his tone suddenly frighteningly stern, “before I’ve cleaned those cuts.”

With that, Atem was forced back down.

* * *

The disinfectant stung.

It smelled awful, too.

“Your Highness – please, stay still!”

Groaning, Atem stopped fidgeting – if only for a short while, anyway.

“How many times are you going to poke me with that stuff?”

“Ah, don’t worry,” Yuugi answered, giving the length of Atem’s arm another inspecting glance, “just a few small ones left.”

True to his word, after a couple of more quick stings, the boy retreated, wiping the brown paste off his fingers. And a few layers of bandaging later, it looked like they were finally done.

“There, that should do it!” he said, seemingly satisfied with the results.

Atem smirked: “Does this mean I’m free to go, Mister Witch?”

Yuugi pursed his lips, thinking.

“Well – I’m still an apprentice-in-training, by the way – I suppose you are…provided that you won’t do anything too strenuous. Your body is just starting to recover, after all.”

He brought his hand to Atem’s forehead, checking his temperature.

“Just watch out for fever, or any other symptoms of an infection, okay?”

A neigh was heard from the yard.

“Hey guys! I’ve got the horse ready!” Jounouchi hollered, “C’mon, Atem!”

“Well, it seems like that’s my cue,” Atem said as he stood up, fastening his travel cloak. He looked at Yuugi, and after a moment of silence, thinking about what to say, he carefully took and held the boy’s hands (which, too, were now cleaned and bandaged) in his own.

“…thank you. Truly, I mean it.”

Yuugi smiled in a way that could only be described as radiant.

“Glad I could help!”

Atem nodded, his lips curving up to a small smile of their own as well, as he turned and opened the door. Yuugi followed, watching from the doorstep as the two boys prepared to leave, mounting the horse.

“See you soon, Jounouchi-kun!” he shouted.

“Ya bet! Ya still owe me one more duel!”

Yuugi nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it! You come too, Your Highness!”

Atem smirked, pulling lightly on the reins.

“Perhaps…we’ll see.”

And the two rode off, disappearing into the thick foliage. Yuugi followed their retreating backs with his gaze as far as he could. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blew across the clearing, rustling the trees and whipping up dirt.

The smile on the witch’s face was swept away, as if it, too, had been snatched and stolen by the passing breeze.

“Well then,” he sighed, turning back to see the mess of dented walls and broken glass, “I guess I should start cleaning up.” And he bent down, picking up a stray piece of gold that had managed to burrow its way between a pair of charred floor planks. His fingers twitched, just a little –

Honestly, he was almost expecting it to hiss.

* * *

_“Eh…why the long face, Atem?”_

_“…nothing, Jounouchi…”_

Clammy hands made holding the reins annoying.

_“…nothing at all.”_

She had been wrong –

_“…well, if ya say so!”_

– she had to be.

 


	5. Prince Charming and the Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for bookmarking/commenting/giving this story a kudos!

Atem was feeling particularly sore in the next following days after the exorcism (which he still insisted had merely been just a nasty case of hangover.) Thus, he preferred to spend his days cooped up in his chambers, nursing his wounds and bruised ego.

Needless to say, it didn’t take too long for Jounouchi to grow annoyed by this uncharacteristically reclusive behaviour – so one morning, he decided to simply force his way into Atem’s quarters instead of waiting for his friend’s sour mood to pass (how he managed to infiltrate one of the heavily guarded royal suites however, was beyond anyone’s guess – for his apparent simplemindedness, the guy was certainly full of surprises.)

From there on out, the rest was just a simple matter of time and questionable persuasion: and before he knew it, Atem found himself venturing into the Turtle Forest once again.

“Jounouchi, I don’t believe I ever promised you to meet your little witch friend again. Besides, I forgot my de –“

Jounouchi slapped him on the back, causing the prince to wobble in his saddle.

“Nah, Atem – Yuugi is a good guy! I know, he’s a witch and all, and looks like you –“

“What? I think we look nothing alike!”

“What? Didn’t you see his hair? Like two peas in a pod, pal!”

Atem shook his head, sighing. Yes, perhaps their hairstyles looked quite alike to some, but that was where the similarities ended, and the differences began –

For instance, there was absolutely no way that he was that short. Definitely not.

“Well, anyway,” Jounouchi continued, as if he hadn’t heard Atem’s complaints, “you’ll like him, I promise! The guy loves games, just like ya!”

Suddenly, he snagged the prince into a headlock, which, on horseback, was a very uncomfortable thing to experience –

“Ya two will hit it right off; I can feel it!”

– and pulled away, grinning in a way that Atem found unsettling from experience.

Last time he had seen Jounouchi wear that particular expression in question, the consequences had been less than pleasant on his part. 

…why did he listen to him, again?

* * *

“Come on in!”

They met a smiling Yuugi at the door, who gave them a warm welcome. Without further prompting, Jounouchi stepped inside, and Atem followed in his tow a few steps behind.

Jounouchi had visited Yuugi countless times, so he made himself at home without batting an eye; he threw his jacket somewhere to the vague direction of the coat rack, where it proceeded to fall onto the floor in a messy pile. Then he simply kicked off his boots before striding over to the couch, and lifted his feet up onto the coffee table.

Atem, on the other hand, had stopped at the doorstep. Last time he had been here, he hadn’t exactly had the time to see the cabin, so now he looked around, taking the whole place in.

Yuugi’s home seemed small, both on the outside as well as on the inside, he noted. Maybe it was because of the massive shelves, which were filled with jars and bottles of all shapes and sizes, multicoloured both in material as well as in contents. A book or two peeked behind some of the glass containers, their spines tall and wide. Their letterings were indecipherable to the prince, although the golden calligraphic shapes did please his eye for some odd unknown reason. 

The shelves, stocked to the brim, seemed to take up most of the room in the cottage. They completely covered up the two furthermost walls: all the way down from the floor and up to the ceiling. Atem craned his neck, looking up to see if there was something interesting on top of the shelves, but he was stopped by the sensation of someone touching his arm; they were rolling up his sleeve.

“Sorry,” Yuugi apologized, bowing his mop of a head a little, “I just want to check if they’ve healed okay…”

After a quick glance, Yuugi hummed, sounding pleased.

“Yep, not bad!” he smiled, turning to Atem, “do you want me to change your bandages, Your Highness?”

Atem had frozen at the sudden touch, having not anticipated it. It took him a while (and a swift shake of his head) to thaw himself. Slowly, he took his sleeve from the witch’s grasp, and rolled it back down.

“No, thank you. The nurses at the castle can manage that – there is no need for you to do it.”

Yuugi shrugged.

“If you’re sure. I’m just glad they didn’t get infected…”

“Yuugi! You, me, duel – now!”

“Yes, Jounouchi-kun!”

Yuugi nodded briefly at the prince, before walking over to the table: Jounouchi had already set up the arena, and he was now anxiously playing with his cards.

“This time I’m gonna win, Yuugi – Lady Luck is on my side!”

Yuugi smiled.

“If you say so, Jounouchi-kun.”

They shuffled each other’s decks. Atem sat on the couch next to Jounouchi, the familiar tingle of excitement already settling in his abdomen. The young prince did love games, that his friend had been right about – and although he wasn’t the one playing now, he still couldn’t help but to feel a bit of a rush; watching a duel take place could sometimes prove out to be more fulfilling than you’d think.

He had known Jounouchi for years, and thus he was well-acquainted with his strategy as well. Of course, the blond did add a twist or two to his style every once in a while to prevent it from becoming too predictable (though Atem still felt that he could read him like an open book sometimes) but the core in his deck had always stayed more or less the same.

But now – now, the duel had an unknown variable Atem knew next to nothing about; namely, the witch Yuugi.

The prince could faintly recall some late night conversations with Jounouchi, where the blond had animatedly been explaining about some of the high points of their duels, but the memories were muddled and unclear at best. But this didn’t annoy Atem at all; in fact, he was rather pleased about not remembering those small tidbits. This way, the duel would remain more exciting: unpredictable, thrilling – the adrenaline rush he lived for.

“How’s Shizuka-chan?”

Yuugi continued his small talk as he shuffled Jounouchi’s deck.

“She’s doing great; ya know, not too long ago, she began sketching this massive landscape of the castle – it’ll be amazing!”

“Wow! Your sister is so talented, Jounouchi-kun!”

Jounouchi rubbed his nose, grinning.

“Heh, I know, right?” he said, brotherly affection and pride oozing from his tone. Soon after that however, his grin smoothened out into a serious expression:

“Ya ready, then?”

Yuugi nodded, and they switched decks.

“Let’s duel!”

* * *

“Oh man, not again!” Jounouchi groaned as his life points hit zero, courtesy by a direct attack from Yuugi’s Silent Swordsman.

Atem found himself clapping. The duel had been exactly what he had hoped for: filled with bluffs, breathtaking gambits, evolving strategies – it had been a long time since he had last seen a duel as riveting as this.

“Great duel,” he praised openly, “that Jump Turn and Silent Swordsman combo; what a brilliant move!”

Yuugi blushed at the praise, fumbling with his cards. Jounouchi, on the other hand, frowned.

“What? No kudos for me? Your best pal?”

Atem rolled his eyes.

“Jounouchi, I’ve seen you use that Time Wizard strategy countless times; we both know it’s a gamble.” He smirked: “And this time, it looks like Lady Luck, despite your earlier boasting, _wasn’t_ on your side – no surprise there, really – “

“Hey!”

Atem laughed.

“All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t rely too much on pure chance,” he elaborated with a teasing tone.

Jounouchi blew him a raspberry – which seemed to startle Yuugi a bit, and the blush on the boy’s face deepened. He desperately motioned Jounouchi to stop; he didn’t seem to know that this was perfectly normal behaviour for the two. Furthermore, in a rather childish act of mock anger, the blond crossed his arms and turned his back to the prince.

“Yeah, right…” he grumbled. Suddenly, the frown on his face became crooked, and his expression turned alarmingly devious.

“Well, _Your Highness_ – if ya think that ya know so much better, then maybe ya should give it a go instead; ya know, duel against Yuugi.” He grinned: “Honestly, I’d pay to see that!”

Atem sighed dramatically, bringing his hand to his brow in a theatrical act.

“I’d love to do that,” he pretended to lament, “but alas! I have forgotten me deck!”

“The horror!” Jounouchi gasped, joining the improvised parody, “O’ Prince, how could ya?”

Atem turned deadpan on the fly:

“Because _someone_ just _had_ to drag me out of my room before I had the time to take it with me!”

Jounouchi blanched.

“O-oh really?” he mumbled nervously, rubbing his neck, “…heh, sorry ‘bout that…”

“U-um, excuse me…?”

They both turned to Yuugi. The witch looked a bit confused, having followed the pseudo farce without knowing whether it was a serious act or not, but as soon as he noticed that their attention had shifted to him, he blushed, and murmured in a quiet voice:

“I…do have a chess board…if Your Highness would like to play, that is,” he proposed timidly.

“He do!” Jounouchi whooped, slamming his hand on the table.

Atem rolled his eyes.

“I do, Jounouchi? I wasn’t aware –“

“Yes, ya do!” the blond grinned, and Atem found himself shoved against the table.

Yuugi smiled apologetically, before getting up to retrieve the game. He walked over to one of the massive shelves, and stretched upwards, standing on the tip of his toes. For some odd reason, Atem found it a terribly amusing sight to hold – though he, even when being the royal he was, wouldn’t have dreamed of expressing this out loud. After all, he knew from personal experience how upset some people could get when teased about their height.

With a soft grunt, Yuugi grabbed hold of a box on one of the upper shelves. After making sure that he had a secure grip on it, he pulled it down slowly, mindful of not letting it tilt out of his hands. When the box was safely out of the shelf and nestled in the witch’s robed arms, he brought it over to the table, and with a small smile on his face, lifted the lid off, setting it aside.

Atem gave the game set an inspecting glance, before nodding in approval.

The board was a wooden one, its checker pattern made by alternating between light maple and dark mahogany. It looked like someone had taken very good care of it: despite having just been taken out of the box, the surface of the checkered wood was shiny, giving it a varnished look. Suddenly, Atem was hit by the idea that maybe Yuugi _did_ polish it every once in a while – for some reason, such a thought didn’t seem too far-fetched or outrageous to him, even though he still didn’t know the witch too well.

Well, actually, that wasn’t too true anymore; he had just seen Yuugi duel, hadn’t he? Atem felt that he could tell a lot about a person by just watching them play a game: it was somewhat of an innate talent of his.

When it came to Yuugi, it was very clear that the witch was quite sentimental about his deck. This had become rather obvious to Atem while he had been observing his playing style, as the boy had done his best to keep his monster sacrifices to a strategical minimum. Each and every card seemed to have a special, individual value to him – as if they had their own little personalities and quirks.

That’s why it didn’t feel too odd an idea for Atem to imagine the witch polishing his chess set regularly, from time to time – for what was the difference between a deck of cards and a chess set with a board and pieces? Surely they could hold some sentimental value as well! Indeed, perhaps the maple queen had helped Yuugi secure many victories during its years of usage – or perhaps it was the mahogany royals that were perceived as unbeatable by the witch?

He could practically see Yuugi in his mind’s eye by now: sitting by the window, a rag in hand as a storm brewed outside, slowly dipping the cloth in varnish, and using it to tenderly caress his beloved dark king –

“Your Highness?”

Atem was jolted out of his daydream by a soft touch on his brow.

“You’re a bit warm, Your Highness,” Yuugi said, sounding worried (his smile was quickly tilting into a frown, and something in Atem wanted to panic) “Perhaps you should go home and rest? We can have a game some other time – “

“N-no! I’m fine!”

Atem cringed inwardly at his own voice. He shook his head, and began to prepare the game board in spite of Yuugi’s protests (“ _Your Highness, really, you’re worrying me!”_ ) placing the pieces onto their proper starting places.

“Black or white?” he asked, not really caring about the answer.

_Concentrate, concentrate – or else you’ve lost before the game has even begun!_

“U-um…white, I guess – if that’s okay?”

_Just…just get that picture OUT OF YOUR HEAD, and you’ll be just FINE –!_

“Perfect,” the prince smirked.

He was sweating.

* * *

Two hours; actually, make that two and a half –

Jounouchi glanced at the grandfather clock, sighing.

Two and a half hours –

– and four moves. In total. No more, no less.

Like, he knew that chess was a mind game, all about strategizing and trying to outwit the opponent, but – this was ridiculous!

“Boooooring!”

“Shut up, Jounouchi.”

He sighed. He couldn’t even have fun trying to rile Atem up; the guy was way too into the game to care about wayward insults and teases. But what else could he do? He was bored out of his mind over here! He might as well be stranded on an island, all by himself, with but the sun and the ticking of the grandfather clock as his miserable company.

Those two were in their own little world right now: Jounouchi could have dropped dead this very instant, and neither of them would have noticed – well, maybe Yuugi would have – but if that were the case, then Atem would just pull him back down and demand him to make his next move, anyway.

And Jounouchi would die. Of boredom.

Only a miracle could save him now. He was as good as stuck here: Atem wasn’t going to budge from that seat as long as the game was still on. Come hell or high water, no one would leave this cabin until the winner would be declared.

O’, ‘tis cruel, this life – ah, he could see the light! Calling him away from this misery!

Miracle, he needed a miracle –!

_“PRINCE ATEM!”_

– and nothing short of a miracle he got.

The cabin door was more or less smashed open without actually _smashing_ the door (how that was possible, Jounouchi had no clue.) It happened so abruptly that it scared both Yuugi and him to fall off their seats. Atem, on the other hand…

_He’s gonna die, the poor bastard._

“A-ah…” the prince murmured, his voice suddenly sounding rather hoarse and squeaky, “…what brings you here, dear cousin?”

A tall figure stood in the doorway. It had an intimidating aura; its mere existence seemed like a conquest in itself, demanding respect. And like a dragon spreading its massive wings, the figure, too, struck fear into the hearts of those who had wronged it.

_Well, it was nice knowing ya, pal…_

_“YOU!”_ the figure let out something that could only be described as a roar, “I come to retrieve you to a meeting – a very important meeting, mind you! – and who do I find? _NO ONE!”_

The figure looked like it could have breathed fire at this point, its blue eyes burning with the cold flames of pure _fury_.

“And where, for heaven’s sake, do I find you, after hours – _HOURS_ – of searching, one might ask?”

Distantly, Jounouchi wondered if there would soon be smoke, too.

“In the middle of _NOWHERE_ , playing _CHESS_!”

And with one mighty stride, the figure (now revealed to be a man, rather than a beast) came and pulled Atem up; and by His Highness’s ear, no less.

Atem, of course, tried to act civil –

“Ouch, _ouch_! Yuugi, this is K-Kaiba Seto, my – my c-cou _SIN_! Seto, Yuugi, Yuugi, Seto – _AAGH_!”

– but it turned out that introducing someone was rather tricky when that same someone was trying to tear your ear off at the same time, and was rather adamant about it, too.

Still on the floor, having fallen out of his chair because of the sudden scare that was Kaiba Seto’s entrance, Yuugi stared at the scene unfolding in front of him for a moment, his as eyes wide as saucers and his skin as white as a sheet, before quietly murmuring:

“U-um, h-hello…?”

The fearsome man nodded briefly in greeting, to the witch’s great surprise and relief.

“Evening. Now, please excuse us, but Prince Atem is just about to leave –“

“But cousin, we’re in the middle of – _oh_ _gOD THAT HURTS_!”

“As I was saying,” he hissed, “he is just about to leave.”

And with that, he simply picked Atem up, threw him over his shoulder, and carried him out of the house. Seeing this, Jounouchi spat out a quick curse, and he clambered up from the floor where he had been lying in a frozen starfish-like fashion. He flashed Yuugi a sheepish grin, before dashing out of the door.

“Sorry, Yuugi,” the witch heard him yell, “ya heard the guy, gotta go! Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon, though – he never forfeits a game if he can help it!”

Yuugi sat on the floor for good half an hour before attempting getting up.

* * *

“Well…?”

“ _What_?” Atem hissed; his ear was still aching.

Jounouchi smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Was worth it, wasn’t it? Huh, yeah?”

Atem rolled his eyes, turning his head away from the blond devil’s diabolical grin.

 “…he’s good, I’ll give you that,” he finally muttered – begrudgingly under his breath, of course.

 Jounouchi’s laughter could be heard miles away.

* * *

_Atem came back the very next morning, at eight o’clock sharp._

_In total, they managed to make two moves that day._

 


	6. The Princess and the Frog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for bookmarking/commenting/giving this story a kudos!

The Game was afoot – and the topic of the town. How the townspeople had come to know about it in the first place, no one knew exactly: the news had spread like the web of a spider, woven overnight and suddenly everywhere despite not even existing the day prior, and now it simply remained, stuck onto the ears of the villagers, refusing to leave.

Everyone had heard it in the span of a few days, and all from different sources; it had become the adults’ game of the broken phone. Yet in spite of this, the core message had fortunately stayed more or less the same (what with a bit of colouring to add to the excitement – a few dragons never hurt anyone, and the kids liked them, you know?) Nevertheless, the news was big:

Someone was actually _faring_ in a game against Prince Atem.

It was considered rather scandalous that the prince who was known for excelling at every and any game he ever played, had been met with a real challenge. Previously, the only people who had been able to give the prince a run for his money were his own cousin, Kaiba Seto, and on one of his lucky days, Jounouchi – and even they had never been able to straight-out _win_ against the prince, for a reason or another.

So to have someone (a complete stranger, no less!) compete against the prince in chess and be actually able to keep the game going on for more than four hours (a previous record set by Kaiba) –

– well, that was outright witchcraft.

The days marched on, and even when the days slowly turned into weeks, there was still no end in sight for the Game (at the threshold of one month, the townspeople believed that the Game deserved a right to a capital letter of its own.) It had become somewhat of a routine, almost: the prince would wake up early enough to be at witch’s house at eight o’clock sharp (ten o´clock in the weekends) where the two would then play until Kaiba would once again appear to drag Atem’s sorry ass back home.

Jounouchi rarely ever accompanied Atem anymore; although he still visited his buddy Yuugi, he simply didn’t have the patience to watch the two play: how could anyone with a sane mind watch a game of chess where the amount of moves per day could be counted with one hand?

So, Atem and Yuugi spent their time playing their game of chess alone together. Well, actually, they _did_ do something else besides chess, sometimes – rarely, but from time to time. A quick tea break between turns for instance, to prevent a sore back; and as the time tick-tocked by and the weeks turned colder, moving on to the winter months, a cup of hot cocoa was sometimes in order, too.

_“…well, this certainly tastes different than your previous ones. What’s in it?”_

_"_ _Chili.”_

_“Chili! In hot chocolate?!”_

_“Well, it’s actually pretty common in some countries, believe it or not.”_

_“…so, you’ve travelled a lot, then?”_

_“With my master, yes. Now I’ve settled here to prepare for my exams…”_

_"…heh. An exam for witches…sounds amusing. Do you have a test on turning princes into frogs, huh? I volunteer – if you promise to turn me back, that is!”_

_“Y-Your Highness – m-magic doesn’t work like that! B-besides, I’d never –!”_

_“Relax, I’m just teasing you!”_

A game shared over a cup of tea and a conversation; it had truly become a comfortable routine for the both of them. It was something Atem felt that he could drown his own worries into: nightmares about misted eyes, golden necklaces and priestesses were forgotten when all he had to think about was his next move.

But come night time, and he could no longer escape the memories. Fortunately, the façade he kept up was good – but not good enough to fool Jounouchi (as mentioned before, despite his simplemindedness, the blond was sharp in his own right; and when determined, he stopped at absolutely nothing.)

_“Tell Yuugi!”_

His advice had more or less puzzled the prince.

_“Dude, the guy saved ya before – I’m sure he could help with a few nightmares!”_

_“But Jounouchi – “_

_“No buts – off ya go, to see the witch doctor!”_

Sometimes Atem didn’t even know why he was friends with Jounouchi.

Must have been the jokes.

* * *

He had been embarrassed – totally mortified, actually. Asking help from Yuugi because of a few scary nightmares? That would be a new low point for him, for sure.

_But they aren’t really nightmares, are they?_

But he had been thinking about Jounouchi’s advice while waiting for Yuugi to make his move, and then – it had just slipped; the words had come tumbling out of his mouth before he had even realized it.

He had regretted it instantly; the way Yuugi had started to frown –

_“F-forget it! Just make your move, okay?”_

Of course Yuugi hadn’t forgotten; the boy got so worried about everything that Atem was surprised he was still able to live without collapsing under it all. The witch took everything…so seriously, really. He had insisted – and when Yuugi insisted, he really did _insist_ – on pausing the game and having a talk.

The prince didn’t know if it was Yuugi’s approachable and amiable nature, or something else (like, say, drugged tea) that had eventually made him spill the whole story: the prophecy, the nightmares – and how he feared they would all come true.

“… _she said that…I’m going to destroy my country. My people_.”

Yuugi hadn’t interrupted or tried to console him – at first. He had let him tell everything he had to say; and the more Atem had talked, and seen how the witch listened to him with a keen ear, sometimes nodding or shaking his head, the less stupid he had begun to feel.

And finally, after what had seemed like an agonizingly long monologue for the prince, he had run out of things to say. Now, he was sitting slumped on the couch, not knowing whether to feel horrified or relieved. He hadn’t even noticed when Yuugi had left, now returning with a small pouch –

“Here.”

The tiny bag felt heavy in Atem’s hand.

“What’s in this?”

“The pieces of the Millennium Pendant. The one I sealed the Shadows into.”

The prince dropped the pouch as if it had caught on fire.

“G-get that thing away from me –! “

But the witch simply picked the bag back up, and held it in Atem’s hands, pressing it against the prince’s palms, hard enough to leave marks; he could feel the sharp corners through the cloth – they were like daggers –

“No.”

Suddenly, Yuugi _looked_ at him. Unblinking, his purple eyes fixed on his –

They stared at each other for a long time.

“You can’t let your fears control you,” the witch said finally.

Yuugi ran his hands over his; the touch was fleeting, soft.

“You are a strong person – and I _know_ you will make a great king someday. But…”

He smiled: a tiny quirk of the lips, looking like an apology.

“…you’ll have to face your demons in order to grow into such a person. I see that king, right here before me – he’s just been…hidden.”

He gently tucked on one of the drawstrings, opening the pouch just a little bit.

“The Shadows can’t hurt you anymore – they’ve been sealed away, into this gold right here. They’re as harmless as Her Majesty’s jewellery now.”

Atem laughed hoarsely. His eyes itched.

Yuugi’s hands were really warm, too.

“Take this with you, okay?” the witch said softly, his tone gentle, but commanding at the same time: “You can return it some other time – after you’ve learned to let go of your fears.”

The prince did as he was told: he took the pieces with him wherever he went (even going as far as carrying them around in royal celebrations and feasts) despite the fact that the mere sight of the pouch was enough to make him feel queasy.

The nightmares did stop, however – and suddenly, the small bag didn’t feel so heavy at all.

* * *

They didn’t play that much chess anymore. A move or two, perhaps, when one of them was struck by an idea, an addition to their own strategy – but they spent their time differently now. Yuugi told him stories, for instance; on what he had seen and heard, experienced while travelling.

_“There’s this circle of stones there, in the middle of a moor – and the tallest slabs are thirteen feet tall!”_

_“What? How’s that even possible?”_

_“Well, that’s just it! No one knows!”_

Sometimes, he showed him pages of the books on the shelves. Most of the time, Atem understood absolutely nothing of them: but the pictures were pretty, and the writing mysterious in its indecipherableness. To imagine all the secrets, magic that had been bound onto those pages, shackled down by something as mundane as household ink! The power those who walked the path of witchcraft held in their hands; surely, it must have been enough to drive mortal men out of their sanity.

He told Yuugi of his thoughts one time, over a shared shortcake (Yuugi had gone all out that day) and to his great surprise, his musings were met by amusement bordering on straight-out laughter, with Yuugi nearly spilling his drink.

“Magic isn’t all that otherworldly, you know,” the witch finally said after gaining control of the giggles escaping him. “You can’t use spells and runes as you please – there are a lot of rules. Besides, it’s more like…guiding something that’s already there than actually changing or adding something,” he explained.

The cup was placed down in favour of gesticulation; Yuugi’s hands moved rapidly at this point as he spoke:

“You see, everything and everyone possess some sort of innate mana – and that mana is something we witches manipulate with our magic…but only to a certain extent. Like when you cook, for example! You can make broth boil by placing it over a fire, but you can’t turn it into wine – it wouldn’t make any sense, see?”

Apparently it didn’t indeed make any sense, because Atem looked at him very funny.

Yuugi sighed, but couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, I know, it’s complicated – trust me, I’m studying it, and even I don’t understand it sometimes! Anyway, the point is that magic isn’t as glamorous as you think, okay? I’m no miracle worker here! ”

_But you saved my life_ , Atem wanted to say, _and cured Jounouchi’s sister_!

_Isn’t that two miracles already?_

– but he swallowed his words instead, embarrassed.

Yuugi’s laughter had chimed like bells.

* * *

They hadn’t played for a long time now (the latest move had been made months ago.)

But the excitement – that familiar tingle in the pit of his gut Atem felt whenever he was anticipating a good game – it was still there.

It had taken him a while to realize why.

_“Man, ya got it that bad, huh?”_

He shouldn’t have told Jounouchi.

_“Atem and Yuugi sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…”_

He really shouldn’t have told Jounouchi.

But then again, it was Jounouchi who had given him the perfect idea.

 


	7. Rumpelstiltskin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for bookmarking/commenting/giving this story a kudos!

“Jounouchi-kun, could you please pass me the carrot seeds?”

“Righto, Yuugi!”

Spring had arrived, clandestinely as always, melting away the snow and thawing the ground. This meant it was time for Yuugi to begin replanting his garden – the cold winter had whittled down his stocks quite a bit, as it tended to happen.

Growing herbs and other things needed for brews and potions by yourself was hard work, but in the long run, it was definitely worth the effort; a witch (or in this case, a witch-to-be) was only as good as the ingredients they used. Second-rate materials were guaranteed to give you second-rate results. Fresh, homegrown ingredients, on the other hand, made every potion that more potent and effective – and Yuugi wanted nothing short of perfection when it came to improving his skills. Gardening was one of those crafts that could either make or break a witch.

It was a tough job though, even if worth it in the end – so it was fortunate for Yuugi that he had a few helping hands nearby.

“Thank you, Jounouchi-kun! Your Highness, please make sure to leave enough room between the seeds – Jounouchi-kun, what’s wrong?”

“Haha! I-it just sounds so funny! ` _Your Highness, please do your gardening work properly_ ´, like that!”

“B-but I didn’t –“

“Jounouchi, stop pestering Yuugi and go back to work.”

The blond straightened up for a mock salute, nearly letting out another bark of laughter at the sight of the prince. He was wearing an apron and a pair of gardening gloves, and he had his hair tied back by a bandanna, wearing it the same way as Yuugi.

Everyone was dressed in similar attires, and they all had soil and earthworms in every possible crevice of their bodies, but for some reason, seeing the heir to the throne squatting down like that, planting vegetable seeds, was enough to make Jounouchi want to bubble with ill glee.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever ya say – oi, remember, not too close!”

“Shut up.”

“Will do!”

Yuugi sighed, shaking his head at the pair’s antics. He still couldn’t quite understand how the two worked, exactly. They were friends (at least, Yuugi assumed they were) but in spite of it, all they seemed to do was mock and insult each other, with Jounouchi being the one with the witty tongue, and with Atem telling him to, well, shut up, for most of the time.

To Jounouchi’s credit, though, he knew when to pipe down – and he seemed to care about Atem and his wellbeing to a great degree. Yuugi hadn’t forgotten the day when the blond had arrived to his doorstep with a sick Atem, and how his face had showed pure, unadulterated fear; he had looked absolutely devastated. Similarly, his relief at seeing Atem finally wake up had been just as strong a display of emotions, if not even stronger.

So, although the two fought a lot, it was clear that they held each other dear. In fact, it seemed that they were having somewhat of a truce going on nowadays – at least, that was what it looked like in Yuugi’s eyes. They were acting a lot quieter (although you’d have to know Jounouchi really well to notice when he was behaving more subdued than usual, because even on his quiet days, he was still very boisterous.)

There was a lot of nudging, quick side glances (and a lot of grins on Jounouchi’s part, which made Yuugi feel a bit unnerved; even he had learned of the blond’s mischievous streak early on – and with rather unfortunate results to boot.) There had even been quite many a time when Atem had, to Yuugi’s great surprise and confusion, seemed to _blush_ at some remark Jounouchi had made while sending him another crooked grin. If Yuugi didn’t know any better, he could have sworn that the two were flirting – but then again, the witch knew very well that Jounouchi had a serious crush on the bartender of the Spinning Bottle, Miss Kujaku “Valentine” Mai. He had it bad when it came to her; the guy was absolutely smitten, no turning back.

Yuugi smiled to himself. Both he and Atem had spent countless hours listening to Jounouchi gush over Miss Kujaku – but every time either of them told him to just go for it and confess, the usually fearless blond would collapse like a puppet getting its strings cut.

_Poor Jounouchi…_

Then again, it wasn’t as if Yuugi could blame him for not having enough guts to confess; he was just as bad of a coward himself –

_Enough of that, now._

The point was, Yuugi had noticed his friends’ odd behaviour; this had gone on for a few weeks now, too. In the end, he had come to the conclusion that they were most likely plotting something – and knowing Jounouchi, he wished that this wouldn’t turn out to be the case (though it probably would.)

“Ack –!”

Speaking of Jounouchi, it looked like field work was starting to take its toll on him: that crack of a back joint didn’t sound too good.

“Jounouchi-kun, are you alright? Maybe we should take a break…” Yuugi proposed, his brow crinkling in worry.

Jounouchi’s eyes began to gleam at the word “break”.

“Really, Yuugi? Awright, you’re the best!”

And with that, the blond jumped up like a wound-up jack-in-the-box, eagerly discarding his apron and gloves.

“Hey, Atem, didn’t ya hear? Break time!”

The prince rolled his eyes, continuing to plant the seeds. Jounouchi was being his lazy self again. Let the blond have his break, sure – maybe he’d find his lost motivation while he was at it (although Atem believed that such long-lost treasure was a near impossible find at this point) – but he would work for a little longer himself.

A hand touched his shoulder. He turned around, and saw Yuugi smiling down at him. He was gesturing towards the cottage.

“Your Highness, maybe you should have a break, too – you’ve already done a ton of work, and it’s starting to get chilly in here.”

– on second thought, maybe he _could_ afford to take a little time off. After all, if Yuugi was having a break, he might as well join him, too.

* * *

In hindsight, it had been rather fortunate for them to decide to have the break at that precise time, for almost as soon as they all had stepped inside, harsh winds began to blow across the clearing. The empty bucket left behind by Jounouchi fell over like a paper cup at the first couple of blows, clattering loudly as it was swept several feet away from the yard. Tree branches wailed, moaning as they were bent by the strong gusts of wind.

“Man…good thing we stopped when we did, huh? Can’t be fun out there, sounds brutal.”

Atem nodded, staring out of one of the windows, watching as the tree tops that were framing the area were being pushed and pulled by the winds like oars. It was so harsh that the rustling of the leaves could be heard all the way in the cabin: it was an insistent buzzing noise, reminding Atem of beehive. It made his ears ring a little.

He found this sudden change of weather to be very strange: despite the sky being clear just mere moments ago, now it suddenly looked like there was a storm brewing outside. The clouds that had appeared out of nowhere were dark and menacing, heavy and foreboding rain – and in consequence, the clearing had now been cast into shadows.

The drop in temperature was tangible, too, enough to make goose bumps appear on his forearms –

“WHOAH!”

It was more Jounouchi’s loud voice than the actual bolt of lightning that gave Atem the scare, but either way, he found himself jolting and dropping out of his seat. The bright flash of light disappeared as soon as it had hit, but it had left Jounouchi glued to the windowpane with his eyes wide.

“… _dude_.”

“ _What_?” Atem grumbled from the floor, rubbing his soon-bruising backside. “It was just lightning, nothing special –“

“Yeah, but _this_ lighting was _green_!”

“Shut up and get glasses, Jounou –“

_CRASH_

Atem’s head swivelled at the sudden sound of something breaking.

Yuugi had dropped the tray he had been carrying to the table. Now the small silver plate lay on the floor, surrounded by pieces of broken porcelain and spilled tea.

Atem was on his feet in seconds, crouching next to the boy.

“Yuugi? Are you alright?”

The witch looked dazed, his eyes staring ahead unseeing and vacant. It wasn’t until Atem waved his hand in front of him that he seemed to notice the prince. He had gone pale, his green robes making him look almost ill in contrast to the suddenly ashen skin, and when Atem picked his hand in his own, it felt clammy.

“Yuugi?”

The boy blinked lazily, as if it was early morning and he was just waking up, before shaking his head slowly – first to the left, then to the right, before repeating it a few more times.

“H-huh? Yeah, I’m fine…” he murmured finally.

“You don’t look like fine to me,” Atem said, worried.

Suddenly, a rumble of thunder, following the lightning, hit their ears. Yuugi jolted out of his stupor.

“Oh _no_ …!”

Atem panicked: “What?! What’s wrong?”

Yuugi stopped, his mouth still open in mid-groan, like he had just noticed that he wasn’t alone, and that now both Atem and Jounouchi were staring at him – and that Atem was holding his hand. He flushed, and gently pulled his hand away.

“Wrong? No, nothing’s wrong…I…I just remembered something.”

He shook his head again, hoping that the heat on his cheeks would disappear.

“L-look, I really have to go do something – I’ll send you back to the castle with a quick teleportation rune, okay? So you don’t get wet and all.

 “W-wait a minute!” Jounouchi yelled, throwing his hands up. “I’m not gonna do that again – last time I lost my lunch!”

Yuugi grinned.

“Don’t worry, I tweaked it a bit – now it should work like a charm!”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better!”

But Yuugi had already started scribbling in the air with his index finger, his fingertip leaving behind a soft glow, forming a pattern. Atem began to feel the familiar pressure of magic creep along his spine – like there was an unwanted guest staring at him from the corner of the room. He shivered unwittingly.

He really didn’t want to leave Yuugi alone, the boy being as pale as he was, but…

“I’m sorry,” he heard Yuugi say, and Atem’s eyes snapped up. He saw the witch bow his head in what seemed to be both shame and apology –

 – and the floor tilted under Atem’s feet, sending him flying across the room –

* * *

– and into the royal gardens.

Atem gasped, having forgotten to breathe (or perhaps the spell had simply knocked the wind out of him, who knew.) Beside him, he heard Jounouchi curse.

“F-fuck…I don’t feel too well…”

The blond was looking alarmingly green, holding a pale hand against his stomach. Atem made a face, and pulled a good couple of feet away from him (last time, it had been his shoes that had taken the damage for Jounouchi’s teleportation-sickness, and he’d rather not have a repeat of that – he really liked these ones.)

“Get a grip, it’ll pass,” he offered a half-hearted encouragement, which only earned him a weary glare from the other. The prince sighed, shaking his head. He was feeling a bit woozy himself, but at least he was able to stand up straight without any bigger problems than a minor headache. Fortunately, he wasn’t suffering from an upset stomach –

“…g- _uh_ …”

 – unlike someone else, apparently.

Atem’s face scrunched up at the sounds Jounouchi was making – but even that couldn’t avert his thoughts away from the worry that had now begun gnawing on him.

_Yuugi…_

They had left before he had been able to make sure that Yuugi was alright, and now the uncertainty was making him feel anxious. Whatever had got the witch so startled couldn’t have been good news – far from it. It looked like he had even gone into a brief shock, being unresponsive for a good while before Atem had managed to bring him back; it had been as if Yuugi had cut himself off entirely from his surroundings. After that, he had panicked, only calming down after realizing that he wasn’t alone – and Atem suspected that even then, the witch’s composure had just simply been a façade (and a very bad one at that: the stuttering and blushing had given him away instantly.)

He had gone so pale, like he had got sick on the spot –

Atem should have insisted on staying, and not let himself get send off like that; what if whatever was bothering Yuugi was something serious?

“Stop that.”

Atem turned to Jounouchi, who was still on his knees, doubled over.

“What?”

“Ya don’t hafta worry ‘bout Yuugi – dude looks like a doormat, but he’s tough; he’s a witch!”

 _…in-training_ , Atem’s mind supplied wittily, doing absolutely nothing to alleviate his worries. But Jounouchi was right: at the moment, there was nothing he could do but wait.

He sighed, glancing at the sky; they should get inside before it’d start raining –

The sky was cloudless.

Calm periwinkle blanket was spread bare across the horizon, bright and undisturbed. The sun was shining, its rays warm and light, chasing away the chilling shadows they had been standing under just a few moments ago. It was the very epitome of peaceful weather: not even a single breeze blew by anymore.

As quickly as it had come, the storm had died down.

_“C’mon, Atem – stop being such a worrywart! Let’s go inside to work on the thing – ya remember, the big plan!”_

The goose bumps were still there, however.

* * *

Yuugi was running, not caring about the storm; it would soon be over, anyway.

He was excited, naturally: this was the moment he had been waiting for all these years – after all those months spent reading, studying, working! He had sowed and reaped what he had been able to gain from the small patch of land he had been left with, and used those fruits of his labour to the best of his abilities. He had changed and tweaked his recipes too many times to count, learning from past mistakes and failures, using them as whetstones to sharpen his skills with. He had researched the runes, disassembling and redrawing them until he had run out of chalk – and it had all led down to this; his wait was about to end!

But then, what was this uncomfortable twisting in his gut? He was nervous, of course – _what if I don’t meet the standards at all? What if I turn out be a disappointment? An assistant without any talent?_ Doubt circled Yuugi’s mind, but he knew to expect such stage fright. It was something he was supposed to be feeling at this point!

 – but why did it feel like he couldn’t breathe?

Yuugi had the answer already, having known it from the very moment he had felt the familiar mana signature flare up alongside the “lightning” (he’d recognize it anywhere; it had been drilled into him since forever.) He kept assuring himself that he was acting stupid (Master would understand, surely!) but no matter how hard he tried to believe himself, trust in the false comfort he provided himself with, pitifully, like a lone child playing make-believe –

 – he was still scared.

And yet, despite this, Yuugi continued to run (like a prey being chased to meet the wolf.)

He was an apprentice. It was something he had to remind everyone of from time to time; non-magical folk seemed to think that an apprentice-in-training and a full-fledged witch were almost one in the same, which he personally found a bit frustrating. For in the world of witchcraft, whether you had your apprentice robes or the cloak of a graduated witch, could sometimes make all the difference.

For instance, as an apprentice, Yuugi was restricted to certain runes and spells, dictated by their level. He wasn’t allowed to consult advanced grimoires, at least not until graduation, and he was thus sometimes forced to get creative with his novice scrolls in order to solve the toughest of problems. It did have its advantages, though. For example, he had learned how to think outside of the box when in a pinch; in fact, Yuugi himself liked to believe that he thrived best when put under pressure – it was something his master had told him once.

_“Your way of magic is the same as the way you play, it seems – you wish for challenges, Yuugi…isn’t that so?”_

The cottage had been Master’s idea, too. He had wanted Yuugi to spend a few sabbatical years while preparing for the exams, and a remote cabin in the Turtle Forest, which very few people visited, had seemed like the perfect choice in his opinion. Yuugi hadn’t been that thrilled at first, though: he wasn’t really fond of the concept of taking a few years off to study – it meant that he was pretty much grounded in his hut, unable to travel with his master anymore.

“ _Yuugi…I 'll leave this place into your hands. There lies many a treasure and valuable artefact here, do you understand? I need you to guard them – with your life if necessary_.”

Those had been Master’s parting words to him; he had trusted Yuugi –

– only to have that trust broken.

_But it was to save a life!_

No matter what the reasoning; in the end, they all sounded like excuses crafted by guilt in his head. He had taken his master’s precious heirloom (which was famous and revered in the highest of social circles, being a source for both admiration as well as envy) and with full knowledge of his actions, Yuugi had smashed it into pieces.

And not only that, but he had also entrusted the pieces into the hands of a muggle, too! It was an idiotic thing to do, to give an artefact that was so rich in mana – even though broken up – to someone who wasn’t trained in the art of witchcraft.

But Atem had had those dark circles under his eyes, his skin drawn and pinched – he had looked so _exhausted,_ ready to fall over at the lightest of breezes. He had been so _worried:_ about the nightmares, about the prophecy, about the future of his kingdom and himself. Yuugi had had to help him somehow, and at that time, giving him the pieces had seemed like the best possible solution – he doubted camomile would have helped that much.

( _There was more to it_ , his conscience hissed at him, _much, much more! You stupid little boy, so easily swayed by your own heart!_ And Yuugi’s cheeks flushed with guilt, as well as with warmth.)

And now, it was time to come clean –

– and face the consequences.

“I-I’m sorry, Master…”

His master had always had the most curious set of eyes Yuugi had ever seen: some people gossiped that it was because of a rogue spell that one eye now carried a different colour than the other – others said it was because of a contract made with a demon.

Yuugi had never believed any of those tales, of course: heterochromia was a completely natural occurrence, albeit it was rather rare to see such a drastic example of it.

“Please…I-I’ll accept my punishment.”

But…seeing those eyes stare down at him like that –

“…very well.”

– unreadable, yet piercing –

“…cauldron. Now.”

– Yuugi didn’t doubt why people told stories like that.

“Y-yes…Master Dartz.”

 


	8. Rapunzel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for bookmarking/commenting/giving this story a kudos!

“Huh? What are ya waiting for?”

Atem hung awkwardly from the saddle, halfway up on the horse. He was biting his lip, rolling it up and against his front teeth – if he applied just a little more pressure, they would nick the skin.

“I’m…I’m not so sure about this, Jounouchi,” he said finally, uncertainty sizzling his insides, “what…what if this doesn’t work, and I’m about to make just one big mistake? What if Yuugi –“

Jounouchi sucked in a breath; he honestly felt like screaming.

“Look, I know you’re nervous and stuff,” he said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes and spit fire, ”but ya gotta prince up! It’s too late to back out now, and ya know it!”

He almost regretted his words the very next instant; Atem looked like he was about to shrink, collapsing like a tent pitched with unorthodox means. Even his hair seemed to wilt: the magnificent mane, the pride and joy of the royal family bloodline, suddenly drooped as if it were just a mere pesky weed.

That reminded Jounouchi – did Atem ever use anything to style his hair? Or did it just…stay up like that? Almost a decade worth of friendship, and he still didn’t know…

He was jolted out of his musings by a frustrated groan.

“I…I know, but –!”

Atem looked – and sounded – like the very embodiment of _pathetic_ (Jounouchi bit the inside of his cheek, chortling; last time he had seen the prince this distressed had been when he had been grounded by the queen for “ _being the cause of general mischief and upsetting the Ambassador of Backgammon_.”) It almost looked like – oh god, the dude was actually tearing up!

Jounouchi was trying not to laugh – honestly, he was – but no matter how hard he chewed on his cheek, the giggles remained stubborn. He felt tears rise into his eyes (for a moment, he might have managed to fool Atem into thinking that he was just being compassionate about the whole invite-your-crush-to-a-three-day-ball-anxiety – thing) and before he knew it, he was laughing his lungs out.

This earned a fist to his gut (and he took it like a man, mind you.)

“Shut up, shut up!” Atem shouted, pounding the blond’s solar plexus with his knuckles. Jounouchi hiccupped, folding over and backing up to shield his abdomen.

“Shutting up, shutting up!” he coughed, rubbing his stomach – that had not better leave a bruise, or Atem would get what was coming to him: Jounouchi still had a couple of those earthworms he had picked up at Yuugi’s…

Atem huffed, his previously depressed expression turning into that of annoyance. He crossed his arms (which made him look all the more the spoiled prince he was) and muttered in a hurt tone:

“I thought you of all people would take this seriously – you’re in the exact same situation, if you haven’t noticed!”

Jounouchi blushed, but turned his head away.

“Wh-what do ya mean, ‘ _in the same situation_ ’?” he mumbled.

Atem smirked. He ran his hand through his hair – which had somehow miraculously returned back to its natural gravity-defying state – and ran his other hand across his side in a mocking caricature.

“Oh _hun_ , you can call me your ´ _Valentine_ ´ anytime…”

The prince enjoyed watching his friend turn a lovely shade of red, flaring like a candle flame from the neck up. He swore that he could practically feel the heat the blond was undoubtedly generating; and was that a drop of sweat he was seeing –?

“THAT’S IT!”

Atem didn’t even have the time to scream when the ground suddenly disappeared from beneath his feet. With a grunt, Jounouchi had quite simply just thrown the prince onto the horse. All the while the two had been bickering, the mare had patiently stood there, waiting for the signal to go – which she was now given, as Jounouchi gave her a firm swat on the rear.

Obediently, she took off.

“W-wait! Jounouchi, I’m not ready!” Atem pleaded, hanging off the saddle. Jounouchi observed the prince’s expression of absolute dread with utmost delight.

“Good luck, Romeo!” he yelled, still red in the face, and he decided to blow the prince a raspberry for good luck – Atem didn’t seem to appreciate this act of goodwill.

“JOUNOUCHI!”

Jounouchi just laughed, watching as his friend got smaller and smaller against the horizon – soon to disappear completely out of sight – and he listened to how the distressed shouts and threats gradually died away, being dwarfed by the rising wind.

“Good luck, ya idiot…” he murmured fondly, his hand ghosting over his bruised abdomen. He cracked a grin. He would get his thanks eventually, most likely when Atem would return from his quest for love – presuming that he wouldn’t botch up the whole thing, of course (which, if you asked Jounouchi, was a very plausible possibility, because though a prince Atem was, he had none of that royal charm.)

Suddenly, something cool hit his nose – a raindrop.

Another fell.

And another.

Jounouchi cupped his hand, watching how water was slowly beginning to gather into the crevices of his palm.

“Huh…” he muttered, tilting his head up to look at the sky.

“Hopefully it doesn’t start to rain,” he said to himself, “he’s terrifying with the flu.”

* * *

When Prince Atem came for a visit, it was pouring.

Yuugi could hardly see him: his travel cloak was but a big black splotch in the grey rain. The witch ran to meet him at the very edge of the clearing, where the foliage could manage to give them some protection from the rain; but Yuugi was still holding an umbrella, just in case.

“I can’t stay for too long, Yuugi,” Atem said, gripping onto his hood, holding it down against the veracious wind. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper – an envelope – giving it to the witch with an urgency that honestly confused Yuugi a little. Was there something wrong at the castle?

“Put it into your robes, don’t let it get wet – “

Yuugi did so, and as soon as the envelope was safely tucked into the layers of fabric, Atem grasped his hand. The leather of the riding gloves was slick with rain, chilling Yuugi’s fingers to the bone, making him shiver (although at this point, the witch knew that there was more to his shivering than just the cold – that there was more to this sensation. The realization tinged his cheeks, just a little.)

“I…” the prince began, suddenly sounding strangely demure for the Atem Yuugi had known for the past year, “I…we’re having a masquerade party at the castle this weekend.”

Atem smiled, more to himself than to Yuugi, his eyes gaining a glassy look.

“A three-day ball, actually. And I was kind of hoping…” this time, he turned to look at the witch, back in the present again.

“…that…you’d like to come. I want to show you around my home!” he explained quickly, and suddenly, in a rapid tone, he added: “You don’t have to dance, of course, if you don’t want to – Jounouchi for example can’t dance for shi – “

Atem’s words were cut off as Yuugi hugged him, manoeuvring awkwardly with his umbrella to wrap his arms around the prince. He got wet, of course, the water from the travel cloak seeping into his robes, but suddenly, he wasn’t feeling cold in the least.

He heard Atem chuckle.

“…I take it you’d like to come?”

Yuugi nodded into the wet cloak, before pulling away, continuing to smile brightly. It was infectious, apparently, because Atem began to grin, too.

“It’s settled, then!” he said, hovering his hands over the witch’s shoulders before slowly pulling away. He mounted his horse, struggling a bit with the wind pulling at his clothes as he bent down to grasp the reins again.

“I…” he said quietly, just as he was turning the mare around:

“I’ll be waiting for you, Yuugi.”

That affectionate tone in the prince’s voice when he had said his name…

 – it had just been Yuugi’s own imagination, surely.

* * *

“You won’t be going.”

The envelope crinkled in the fire, held in the palm of a hand. Viridian flames encircled the layers of paper (thick, high-quality stationery sheets, with words of invitation spread out in blue ink, lovingly written.) The destructive heat, like a hound on a leash, tore at the letter, eating it away one bite at a time: slowly, it got smaller and smaller, until all there was left was a pinch of ash.

Dartz waved his hand in a nonchalant manner, as if swatting away a fly, shaking the warm powder off his fingers – some of it must have got into Yuugi’s eyes, because they began to sting.

“Well, now that that’s settled…”

His throat was sore.

“…I believe we should talk about your upcoming exams.”

In order to execute proper Witch Examinations, some necessary preparations were in order: these included summoning the judges, and more importantly, choosing which spells, runes and potions would be part of the assessment. Every apprentice’s exam differed from others’, having different focal points and challenges that were meant to test both the strengths as well as the weaknesses of the participants.

To achieve the best possible results (in other words, the most challenging combination of required tasks imaginable) it was often the teacher who organized their student’s final examination.

“…I will return in a few days, at twelve o’clock sharp – at midnight. Until then, you are not to leave this house…do you understand?”

They both knew that Yuugi did understand. The contents of the exam were to be kept an absolute secret – otherwise, there could be a serious case of cheating issued; and the consequences of such a fraud were often less than pleasant. To ensure this secrecy, the participants were forbidden to leave their homes; in other words, they were more or less put under house arrest until the big day. It was part of the customary conventions, no matter how unfair and idiotic it sounded – because if there was something witches’ respected, it was traditions: it was what witchcraft had been built upon, after all.

So Yuugi knew that there was no sense in trying to object. He knew the rules as well as any other apprentice – he had studied them thoroughly at the very beginning of his schooling; the Witches’ Codex had been amongst the first things he had been taught. Simply put, he wouldn’t be allowed to leave his hut for the next following days, and there was nothing he could do about it. There was no negotiating out of the situation; Dartz had made sure of it.

“Use this time wisely, Yuugi – make it count.”

He left Yuugi with some books (“ _revised editions”_ , he told him with a smile, “ _they’ll give you that final boost you’ll need for your big day”_ ) before disappearing in a brief flash of light.

All of the grimoires were colossal in size, bound in leather and weighing in a hefty half a stone each. He should be reading them – and he _was_ , one was lying open on the table right now – skimming and scanning for tidbits that might prove essential for passing the exam.

He was fond of reading, really – had always been. Actually, truth be told, you couldn’t get very far in witchcraft if you didn’t fancy books, because in the end, that was what lied at the very core of every spell and rune: lots of reading and memorization. If that didn’t happen to be your cup of tea, then you’d be better off choosing some other career path.

But for Yuugi, reading was something he had always enjoyed.

He coughed, rubbing his eyes; they stung, shining red at the rims.

The piece of text in front of him was getting blurred, and the page was slowly becoming dotted – quiet _pitpats_ resembling light spring rain accompanied the _ticks_ and _tocks_ of the grandfather clock.

_“Make me proud, Yuugi.”_

It was for the best: he would study hard, pass the exams, and – and invite Atem to his graduation! Yes, he would invite all his friends, and they would throw a big party! Of course, it was a shame that he wouldn’t be able to come to the ball, but he would make it up to them – surely Atem would understand! Besides, his throat hurt and he didn’t even have anything to wear…

_“I’ll be waiting for you, Yuugi.”_

 – except that there was some fabric in the attic.

A few pieces of cheap cotton, if his memory served him right – Dartz had told him that the winters would be rough, so he had bought the fabric for later use. As a material, however, cotton wasn’t the best choice for formal wear…but a few simple spells could make all the difference: just a little added _glamour_ and –

 – and he _did_ have some organza, and a few slips of silk up there as well! He had almost forgotten all about it: Grandma had sent him some of her leftover fabrics as a birthday present a few years back (she was an avid sewing hobbyist, much to the chagrin of Grandpa.) She had known that her grandson could use the cloths as a practice aid, as casting illusions was a vital part of a witch’s skill set.

True, in the end, it wasn’t that much fabric, but if he were to choose his spells carefully –

It would just be another form of practice; a hands-on experience, really! And – and he wouldn’t be gone for long, just for a few hours, because –

_I want to see you._

Somewhere far away, a wolf howled.


	9. The Prince and the Pauper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for bookmarking/commenting/giving this story a kudos!

Night arrived quietly, as if on a cat’s feet. Silently, it crept along the very edge of the horizon, dotting the sky in between the tree tops and the foliage – a cue to a new backdrop. And as if done by a brush tipped in ink, slowly, the dusk was painted over in lazy strokes, new darkness spreading like aquarelle across the lines of the sky.

Night was hung over the clearing like the veil of a mourning widow: grim, yet beautiful in its longing.

With bated breath, Yuugi awaited for the stars.

It was just one, at first – a tiny, tiny pinprick of pale light, shining just over one of the old birches. It peeked behind a branch, as if shying away from him. Soon, another joined its lone sibling: together, they glowed a bit brighter. Not wanting to be left out, two more twinkling lights appeared, merrily mingling, soon to be followed by two more –

The sky _blossomed_. Suddenly, there were stars everywhere, budding in clusters of dozens. They decorated the black veil of night with constellations, embroidering the stories of old for all to see. A thin silver thread, so fine that it was as good as invisible, only found by one’s own imagination, connected Sirius to the form of the _Canis Major_ ; and soon the dog and its master were once again brought together, if only for the night.

Outside, under the garden of twinkling lights, Yuugi was carefully spreading out his fabric. It was black in its colour; the darkest of blacks he had been able to enchant. It was to become his attire for tonight.

The boy was happy to see that there were no major wrinkles in the spread-out piece of cloth. Nodding to himself, he pulled on a pair of black gloves, meant for the delicate handling of the magical kind – yet in this case, they were to be worn for the ball.

Feeling the roughness of the bark with his gloved fingers, Yuugi carefully climbed a birch that stood nearby his yard (he almost lost his footing mid-climb, which threatened to send him tumbling back onto the ground, but he managed to hold on, somehow.) Seating himself on one of the lower branches – nice and sturdy, able to carry the apprentice’s weight – he briefly tapped his hands together, murmuring without a sound under his breath. Then, slowly, he reached out –

 – and plucked a star right out of the night sky. Yuugi cupped it in his hands, as if he was just simply holding a firefly, and he watched the small light peek between his veiled fingers. He reached out again, picking up another twinkling light, roughly the size of a marble – and he slipped it next to the other star, letting it roll onto his open palm.

One by one, he plucked lights out of the nightly canvas, collecting stars from everywhere he could reach, until he had so many that he could no longer hold them in his hand without some spilling over, rolling down onto the lawn below. Satisfied with his catch, he dropped down from the tree (mindful of the treasure in his hands, of course.)

When spread out onto the black fabric, the stars burst out into clusters of galaxies of their own. Shimmering lights, now encased in threads, formed a night sky on the ground that glinted and glimmered amongst the blades of grass. With swift, light fingers, Yuugi collected the fabric into his arms; it almost looked like he was picking up a part of the Milky Way.

With one innocent crook of a finger, the cloth coiled obediently at the ends, forming a hood for the boy to wear. He slipped it on, letting it conceal the all-too-revealing locks of wild hair – the rest became a simple cloak, its embroidered stars cascading down to the tips of his feet.

Yuugi was veiled in midnight.

But this alone wouldn’t do – it was a masquerade he was going, no? A simple act of hiding his hair wouldn’t be enough: so, with gentle fingers and a soft touch, Yuugi carefully detached a piece of a spider web from a tree branch one had been woven onto. Glimmering with a few drops of dew, it would make the perfect accessory to his starred ensemble. Slowly, he patted the netting onto his face, wearing it like a mask.

Picking up his broom, and being careful not to trip over the hem of his cloak, Yuugi took one final glance at his cottage. He felt the guilt gnaw anew on his gut at the sight, prickling his insides like a stack of needles. He was fully conscious of the fact that what he was about to do would be considered a serious violation of the Codex if found out.

Perhaps he should decide not to go after all? Because, in the end, this one blunder had the potential to utterly destroy everything he had worked for so far. If he were to be disqualified from the Witch Examinations, he honestly wouldn’t know what to do – it was everything he had ever known, what he had always aimed for. This wasn’t just about one weekend in his life: this was about his career, his whole future. With just this one decision, he could ruin everything.

Yuugi knew that when it came right down to it, ditching his duties for a night at the castle was in no way worth the risk of disqualification: that was a given. But, in spite of all the warnings he could hear a part of him spout, deep down, he couldn’t help but to feel –

_“I want to show you around the castle!”_

A few hours, that would be all; he would come back as soon as he could, Yuugi promised himself.

With a swift kick, he pushed himself and his broom off the ground, and into the sky.

Somehow, his guilty conscience seemed to weigh less in flight.

(He would feel pretty guilty about bewitching the guards into letting him into the castle without a proper invitation, too – but at that point it was either go big or go home, really.)

* * *

Jounouchi was enjoying himself – and why wouldn’t he? Right now, he had an unrestricted access to one of the best buffets in the world, prepared by the most skilled cooks in the kingdom of Domino. He was stuffing his face with the most exquisite of cuisines under the sun, free of cost.

Well, he did have to shoulder a few vexed looks from some of the more upper crust guests, but that was a small price to pay for a dozen of delicious caviar oysters. Seriously, judging from some of the looks he had got during the night, you would think aristocrats had never seen a normal human being eat before!

“Jounouchi, don’t gorge yourself in front of the guests,” Atem snapped at him, snatching a fish finger straight out of the other’s hands.

“Hey, don’t ya start being all snobby too, Atem!” he grumbled, reaching to grab back his hors d’oeuvre, only to fall short when the prince decided to take a bite of it himself – and right under the blond’s nose, too.

“Oi! Atem!”

The prince stopped mid-chew.

“Oh…sorry,” he muttered, and pulled the now-mutilated end of the fish finger out of his mouth.

“There you go,” he said, offering the half-eaten piece of food back to Jounouchi.

The blond recoiled.

“Dude, _ew_! No way!”

Atem looked at him, and shrugged.

“Suit yourself,” he said, and resumed in eating the coated fish treat.

Jounouchi frowned – sure, Atem did act strange all the time, but _this_ was new. Building makeshift chandelier swings, playing a game of hide-in-pots, and making faces at important political figures were perfectly normal, often presented behaviours in the royal household of Domino. But stealing someone’s food (and then offering it back after eating half of it) on the other hand – no, that didn’t sit well with Jounouchi. There was something fishy going on here (and he wasn’t talking about the food, either.)

“Atem…are ya nervous or something?”

A twitching eyebrow; a telltale sign of getting caught.

“Wh-what, nervous? Me?” Atem laughed, running a shaky hand through his coiffeured locks, “Of course not – that’s a ridiculous idea! Do you think this is my first ball?”

Jounouchi grinned, enjoying watching his friend squirm.

“No – but this _is_ the first ball Yuugi is coming to.”

Atem blanched, almost dropping the stolen treat he was holding. Annoyed, he wiped his shaking hands with a napkin, ridding his fingertips of most of the loose bread crumbs. His hands felt sweaty still, though – no amount of dabbing and drying seemed to make any difference in the long run.

How could he ever dance with Yuugi while having sweaty hands? The boy would immediately think he was gross: maybe even leave him in the middle of a waltz, right onto the dancefloor, alone! Or what if the boy didn’t want to dance at all – or what if he didn’t know how to dance to begin with?

If this was the case, then Atem would be more than happy to teach him how – from waltz to foxtrot, he would lead Yuugi through every dance the boy had ever wanted to learn and then some, if that was what he wished for. But what if he accidentally stepped on the boy’s foot? It could be a terrifying accident; he could even break the other’s toes!

At this point, the rational side of Atem jumped in, trying its best to convince the panicking little brain cells that this would hardly be the case; he was wearing ballroom shoes, not steel-capped boots – but alas, the voice of reason went unnoticed in the midst of inner chaos.

“Oh, Jounouchi…” the prince finally moaned out loud, no longer being able to hold his fears to himself without bursting, “what am I going to do?”

Another fear resurfaced uninvited from the murky depths of his mind.

“Jounouchi – Jounouchi, what if he doesn’t come at all? How am I going to handle that? What if –“

Sticky hands squashed his cheeks (Jounouchi had never really appreciated the joys of fine cutlery), turning the prince’s head sharply to the twelve o´clock.

“Bud,” the blond said, a snort audible in his voice –

“– I don’t think ya gotta worry about that anymore.”

* * *

It was Yuugi.

Even with the hood and the mask obscuring the face and hiding the hair, the lone figure standing in the doorway was undoubtedly – unquestionably – Yuugi.

He was _beautiful_.

Around the ballroom, people had immediately begun to gossip _(“What on earth are they wearing – it almost looks like they have the night sky veiling their shoulders!”_ ) in hushed, quiet voices that were audible to everyone, and thus not quiet at all – except to Atem.

He didn’t hear anything – even the music, beautiful and skilfully played by the royal chamber orchestra, was as good as gone in his mind. For this one moment, which he would be eternally grateful for, there was only Yuugi.

Atem felt a push on his back (no doubt by courtesy of Jounouchi – his suit must have a sticky handprint at the back now) and suddenly, he was moving, uprooted. Crossing the hall with a glide in his step, he effortlessly journeyed through the crowd, with but one thought in mind.

_I want to see you._

Atem felt like he was crossing a storming ocean – but he made it. After all, there was a whole sky filled with stars right before him just now, wasn’t there? As long as he knew to keep his eyes on the Polaris, he wouldn’t be lost.

The prince stood at the shore at last, victorious.

“Hello,” he said, his voice no doubt hoarse and cracking like a fourteen-year-old’s.

But Yuugi smiled at him, pink lips curving upwards in that familiar way that made his chest ache –

 – and Atem wasn’t feeling nervous at all.

As if someone had pulled the cotton out of his ears, the music returned, fortunately not too overpowering or blaringly loud. It was a waltz: a piece that was part of the orchestra’s routine repertoire, and which Atem had heard countless of times before. He knew it by heart, and could practically hum it on the spot if told to.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked, offering his hand to the other, “Do you know how to dance? It’s okay if you don’t, I can teach you, basic waltz isn’t that hard –“

Yuugi took his hand, his black glove feeling soft against the prince’s naked palm.

“O-okay, you know how,” Atem laughed nervously, feeling the heat blossom both in his hands as well as on his cheeks, “I’ll lead?”

He did.

It was a slow, swaying rhythm they danced to. Both of their steps were a little unsure at the first notes, clumsy in their awkwardness, but as the music flowed on, so did their feet. Atem led them across the ballroom and back, from time to time leaning a bit closer to whisper into the other’s ear (“ _Isn’t that a ridiculous painting? That’s my aunt, she’s the crazy cat lady – I’ve always really liked that chandelier.”_ )

“Seriously, what _is_ that? A fruit basket?”

Atem watched, feeling a bit smug, as the corners of Yuugi’s mouth twitched in ill-concealed amusement when he pointed out another outrageous hat from the crowd.

He tapped the witch-to-be on the tip of his nose, making the boy look up to him.

“You can laugh, you know – no one will hear a thing.”

_I like your laugh,_ he almost said, but his tongue refused to work –

Yuugi stilled abruptly, almost throwing them off-beat. Atem groaned, taking a few quick measured steps to pull them back into the flow.

“Yuugi, what –?” he was about to question, his heart hammering in his chest; he had almost stepped on the other’s foot –

The boy brought his finger to his lips in a hushing gesture, winking.

Atem blinked owlishly, confusion evident in his expression.

“What…you don’t _want_ to laugh?” he finally asked, his inner panic budding anew, “are…are my jokes really that bad? Do you want me to shut u –“

Yuugi made a noise that resembled a choked snort, and he tapped his mask, mouthing the words for emphasis:

_I’m wearing a mask._

Somewhere, even in the haze of Atem’s chaos of a mind, a light bulb was lit.

He laughed, the previous tension escaping his body with a sigh.

“You’re really taking this masquerade-thing seriously, huh?”

Yuugi simply nodded, smiling somewhat awkwardly.

* * *

The two continued to dance throughout the night. The music pieces changed, as did their steps accordingly, shifting like backgrounds in a play as time went on. The music never stopped completely: like their dancing, it, too, seemed seamless.

Although, in the end, it didn’t really even matter: Atem could have continued dancing in absolute silence, and he would still have been on cloud nine – in fact, even if the orchestra had suddenly decided to stop dead in their tracks, he doubted he would have noticed, instead opting to carry on leading Yuugi across the ballroom while grinning like the true moron he was.

It seemed that it was impossible for them to stop. Atem felt no fatigue, in spite of having danced for hours on end by now. He felt no urge for a quick drink, either: Yuugi’s smiles and affectionate touches were all he needed to quench his thirst, to stave off the hunger, if that meant that he could hold onto that gloved hand for even just a little longer.

Yuugi seemed to share these thoughts, and he was perhaps even aiding them, because somewhere closer to midnight, Atem had felt the familiar tingle of magic, which usually meant that Yuugi was tapping into his otherworldly skills. Even if this wasn’t the case, and the prince was just imagining things, it still managed to put a smile on his face. Neither of them wanted this night to end.

Eventually, it did, however.

As the dawn finally broke through the stained glass windows, casting the ballroom in warm morning glow, Yuugi’s cloak gave off a final glimmer – as if it was saying its goodbyes – before dimming, returning back to the old non-magical piece of ordinary black cloth.

It was akin to a spell breaking: suddenly, Atem could no longer feel the warm hand in his. It had vanished like the night sky before the sunrise; gone like the last star to slumber.

Yuugi had left – only a pale transportation rune glowed faintly in his stead, before it, too, dissolved in the rays of sunlight.

Atem’s feet began to ache.

 


	10. The Little Match Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for bookmarking/commenting/giving this story a kudos!

_Idiot!_

Yuugi threw himself on his bed, his broom clattering onto the floor, having followed its owner back home.  The boy clenched his teeth in frustration, grabbing the nearest pillow to smother himself with. He flailed, legs swishing and kicking the bedspread with ever-quickening blows. His arms tightened around the pillow, fully intent on pushing it to cover his airways – it would be a quick death, right?

But suddenly, his grip loosened; his legs stilled mid-kick, before going completely limp. He didn’t have the strength to move anymore, it seemed: it felt like someone had anesthetized him on the spot. Limbs heavy and aching, he was left lying on the bed, fingers grasping the sheets in a vain effort to rid himself of anxiety.

He was an idiot.

How could he have forgotten the time like that? He had promised himself a few hours only – not the entire night!

_A wonderful, never-ending night!_

Yuugi buried his face in the mess of sheets.

He had lingered at the ball hours past his intended curfew, even though he had known that the enchanted fabric would lose its glamour the very minute the sun would rise! So, he had not only disregarded the curfew, but he had also completely forgotten one of the utter basic – _basic!_ – limitations of illusionary magic as a whole!

What was wrong with him: forgetting a concept as elementary as that…! Even absolute novices were smart enough to study and memorize the limits their spells and runes had, until they knew them by heart (for otherwise, the potential consequences could not only be embarrassing, but also hazardous to one’s health.)

_Stupid, stupid, stupid…!_

Like a fool, Yuugi had messed up – and thus, he had had to resort to extreme means.

_Oh, Atem – I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry…!_

He had fled, like a coward: there was no other explanation, no other justification for his actions. When the dawn had broken, he had just…panicked. He would have been wearing nothing but a cheap old cloak soon, in a place filled with judging eyes – he had had to do _something_ –

A hastily scribbled rune, drawn with shaking fingers; he had chosen to run away.

… _the glove is still warm_ , Yuugi thought. He felt a painful pinch in his heart when he remembered how he had had to pull his hand away from Atem’s.

The prince probably hated him now – who wouldn’t, having been left like that, without a proper goodbye?

_You couldn’t have said anything anyway._

Yuugi laughed; or at least he tried, but the sound came out more as a hoarse sob.

_I’ll have to go and apologize tomorrow._

He just hoped that Atem would understand.

With tired eyes, the boy glanced around the cottage, only to spot one of the grimoires: it was staring at him. He should try to study – maybe that would make him feel a bit better –

He was asleep before he could even make it out of the bed.

* * *

Yuugi woke up late in the afternoon. After the inevitable grogginess faded away – with the help of a big dose of bewitched coffee (ingredients not disclosed) – the dismay immediately kicked in. The sky was already starting to show signs of the dusk approaching; in other words, he would have to begin to prepare his attire for the night, or he wouldn’t be able to go the ball at all.

(He hadn’t even opened his books, either! How was he supposed to pass the exam if he didn’t even study for it in the first place?)

So, with the taste of coffee still burning his palate, Yuugi dragged himself to the attic. He returned down with his arms stuffed full of see-through organza: a stiff, light fabric that came in multiple different colours.

He had a few strips of non-translucent cloth, too, for the lining of the bodice. He took that fabric, and carefully laid it down onto the floor. Then, after checking and running through the measurements a few more times in his head, the witch began to mark the cloth, before finally pinning and cutting it to its proper shape.

The bodice was supposed to be snug, with a corset-like lacing on the back. Halfway through the first fitting, however, Yuugi had to fight a blush off his face. The top looked pretty good on him, being just the right size and not at all as uncomfortable as he had first thought – but would it be proper to show up at a royal ball with this tight-fitting an outfit? It left his shoulders bare, too!

A tiny voice at the back of Yuugi’s mind giggled – _I’m sure Atem wouldn’t mind at all –_ but he silenced it with a swift shake of his head. He would just have to wear a shawl, that’s all (he was pretty sure that he had enough extra fabric for one) and hope that he wouldn’t cause too big of a scandal. It was too late to make any more modifications, anyway – the sun would start setting soon.

Pinning slips of organza onto the bodice to cover the lining, Yuugi stitched them on securely, and then began to work on the skirt part. Bunching up pieces of multicoloured organza – starting with yellow, and then adding orange and a few shades of red in between, having all the different layers of cloth share warm hues – he slowly sewed them into a bell shape, which would spread out into a perfect circle when spun around.

A part of Yuugi wondered how it would look like when Atem and he would dance.

After a final dress up (checking if everything fit well, and that there were no rips or loose threads hanging about) he gave his work a nod of approval, before going and hanging it up outside, pinned to a clothes line – just in time.

The sun had started to set, bringing on the dusk – and along with it, the magnificent play of colours. It almost looked like the horizon was on fire; from behind the trees, lights like flames rose up, flaring in all their amazing beauty. The heavenly glow lit up the cloud linings as if someone had struck a match to the buttermilk sky, and the bright colours began to slowly eat away at the soft downy plush.

Intense, burning hues continued to spread across the sky like wildfire, pushing back the darkness that would eventually emerge victorious as the night would continue to fall. However, for now, the dusk was the conqueror.

As if on cue, the sun peeked one final time from behind the horizon, its farewell rays more piercing than the rest – showing that it wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Yuugi murmured without a sound under his breath – now was the time.

The dress, swaying lazily on the clothes line, caught on fire.

In a matter of seconds, the whole garment was engulfed in heat and smoke, with flames licking at the end of the skirt, climbing upwards. They coiled around the bodice like a swarm of snakes, leaving behind a trail of burns, while the hemline blackened with soot, curling up like paper being teased by a candle.

It only lasted for a short while; as soon as the sun had disappeared, having gone off to slumber till morning and no longer shining bright, the fire began to die away, too. Soon, all that remained was an intact, unburnt dress – yet, there was still a distant scent of smoke wafting in the air.

Carefully, Yuugi donned the dress, still feeling the residual heat as a comfortable warmth around his middle. Burning patches, like embers, had been embedded into the woven threads of the attire that now glowed when catching light. The skirt, too, looked like it had been made of clusters of flames – just as iridescent and burning as fire itself.

Yuugi spun around, watching as the layered organza spread out into a circle – he could almost hear the crackling of the hearth.

Smiling to himself, he reached up and plucked a few leaves from a maple he stood next to – although most of the tree was still green, a couple of the leaves already had a pleasant, warm red tint to them. With a few taps, a mask was crafted, fitting perfectly with the rest of the attire.

The clock was ticking: the second night of the masquerade would soon begin. Anxiety gnawed on Yuugi’s gut – he would have to go and apologize to Atem, no matter how far behind he was with his studies (he had brought this upon himself, after all, having dawdled at the castle all night.) So, with a swift kick, he pushed his broom airborne again.

That night, someone thought they saw a shooting star.

* * *

Atem had been a bundle of nerves all day. Watching him pace back and forth like a cat on hot bricks had been entertaining – if only for the first half an hour. After that, Jounouchi hadn’t been that interested in the peculiar sight anymore, instead preferring to sneak off into the kitchens to have a little foretaste of the dishes to come.

Nevertheless, night was falling fast, and soon, it was time to begin. As the gates to the castle were opened, and a signal was given to start the party anew, Yuugi was there, arriving with the first of the guests. Jounouchi let out a sigh of relief; he wouldn’t have to put up with a paranoid prince tonight.

Atem sought out Yuugi immediately from amongst the crowd, and had very little trouble finding him: not only had the boy not hidden his hair this time around, but he was also wearing one of the most eye-catching costumes Atem had ever seen to date.

(A tiny voice at the back of his mind cheered loudly.)

Like the night before, immediate gossip ensued _(“Look at all those colours – forget the colours, can’t you see how short that skirt is?”_ ) Once again, Atem brushed the not-so-hushed voices aside: Yuugi was here – that was all that mattered.

The prince embraced the boy right at the gates: there was a pleasant warmth coiling in his stomach.

“Thank goodness you came,” he breathed out, relieved.

He saw Yuugi blush under his mask, pink colour spreading across his cheeks and dying the tips of his ears. The boy opened his mouth, as if to speak, but his jaw snapped back up almost immediately (he was _really_ passionate about the idea of a mysterious masquerade, wasn’t he?) Instead, he returned the prince’s embrace, the pale arms rising up to curl around the other’s shoulders.

Somehow, Atem knew that the gesture was meant as an apology.

“Don’t worry – it’s fine,” the prince said, letting go of the boy so he could take a look at him and his pretty face “but…don’t run away like that anymore…please?”

Yuugi nodded furiously.

Atem smiled – then, with a mischievous smirk pulling on his lips, he offered the boy his arm.

“Well then, shall we go? I wish to show you around my home, if you don’t mind.”

Yuugi stared at him, blinking – it wasn’t until the prince nudged the boy a little that the other seemed to realize that he was being given the privilege of having a guided tour around the castle. How could anyone say no to that? It was practically a once-in-the-lifetime opportunity! (Although if it were up to Atem, Yuugi would be visiting the castle a lot more in the future.)

Grinning, but biting it back to an amiable smile (it seemed that Yuugi wanted to play along – good) the boy curtsied, letting Atem take his hand.

It felt just as warm as last night.

So in they went, running hand in hand past the shocked crowd – Atem thought he might have heard some woman shriek – and into the castle, bypassing the ballroom with a simple glance thrown its way. This wouldn’t be a night for dancing (well, perhaps maybe later) but for exploration and adventure.

Atem felt giddy.

Suddenly, he felt like he was eight years old again: the drapes framing the beautiful ornamental windows became vines, lianas to grab and climb (he found out that it was surprisingly easy to swing from one curtain to another, in spite of donning a suit.) Yuugi followed him to the best of his abilities – though in his case, playing Tarzan wasn’t really a viable option – so he chose to simply run at the other’s side, the hem of his dress swaying in beat with his quick steps.

Bypassing servants shot them vexed looks, clearly annoyed (who would be cleaning up the mess, huh?) but at the same time, they knew there was nothing they could do – the prince’s word was law, one only abolished by his parents. If he wanted to turn the insides of the castle into an untamed jungle, so be it – unfortunately.

“The floor is lava!” Atem shouted suddenly, dropping down onto the carpet below. Yuugi didn’t have any time to react – he noticed too late that he had been standing on naked floor. Fortunately, the prince came to his rescue: stopping to scoop the boy up, he sped along the hallway with mad laughter bubbling up his throat.

“Hey – let’s shortcut through the kitchens,” he said, grinning down at Yuugi, “and get some snacks. We can go have a picnic in my room!”

If Yuugi objected, he didn’t know – at this point, the prince was too much into his little game to really notice what was happening around him – but he guessed that the other would be okay with the idea of having a spontaneous outing indoors.

Yuugi was.

* * *

A tray with a half-eaten sandwich tower and a couple of leftover cupcakes rested on the nightstand. Atem grabbed the pitcher that stood next to this masterpiece of culinary engineering, and poured himself more punch. He offered Yuugi some, too, but the boy shook his head: he was all-too full already.

“You know, it must be a miracle that Jounouchi hasn’t joined us yet,” the prince laughed, secretly pleased. “I thought his sense of smell was better than this – seriously, if anyone could sniff out a crumb fifteen feet away, it would be him!”

Yuugi grinned, slapping down another card; at the moment, the two were in the middle of a game.

“Eight of diamonds, huh?” Atem thought out loud, peering down at his own cards. “What to choose, what to choose…”

It was a friendly little game of cards: enough to give them something to do, but not as intense as their game of chess (which was still on-going, though largely forgotten by now.) They continued to take turns, playing and bluffing –

 – until the very first rays of the morning sun began to paint the walls around them.

Immediately, Yuugi jolted up from the bed the two had been sitting on; his lips thinned and twisted like he was about to let out a groan.

Atem couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the sight – but he shut up when he saw how horrified Yuugi looked: the boy had gone ashen pale once again.

“Sorry,” the prince said, “are you alright? Have I kept you for too long?”

The boy was wringing his own hands, obviously distressed. Suddenly, he curtsied (which, despite his worry, made Atem grin crookedly) and turned to pull the other into a hug.

The prince knew that it was Yuugi’s way of saying goodbye.

Atem smiled, happy with being embraced by the other for a good while (he was feeling warm and fuzzy and perfectly comfortable right now, thank you very much) until he finally moved to let the boy go – but just as he was about take a step back and allow the other make his leave, a wayward idea seized him, and he instead grasped Yuugi’s hand.

“You know…we never got to dance tonight…”

Atem spun the boy around: immediately, the dress flared to life in a fiery arc, rising up to the clockwise motion like a bouquet of flames. Once, twice – three times around Yuugi went, until Atem brought him to a stop, draping him over his arm; there was a distant sound of sizzling to be heard –

The prince bent down to whisper into the witch’s ear:

“I do wish you’ll come tomorrow – I want to show you the gardens. And…”

At this point, he stumbled a bit.

“…I…I think I’ll have something important to tell you.”

The prince’s stomach coiled, and he knew it wasn’t because of the magic that had started to circle around them. With one final squeeze of Yuugi’s hand, he backed away, watching as the tiny rune did its job: a brief flash of light followed, and the other was gone.

Now standing alone in the empty room, Atem wondered if he truly had the courage to face tomorrow night.

 


	11. Cinderella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for bookmarking/commenting/giving this story a kudos!

He had done it again.

_Stupid boy!_ the grimoires seemed to mock him, staring at him with their open, unread pages – the gesture was akin to a pointing finger of the jury. Anxiety, mixed with the feeling of blatant guilt, wallowed in Yuugi’s mind, making it difficult for him to concentrate: thus, the writings that had once fascinated him and left him yearning for more – for more to read and to learn – now felt almost alien.

The glyphs seemed to slither on their pages, teetering on the edge of the boy’s failing vision, slipping just out of sight the moment he tried to read them; his own thoughts were escaping him, leaving him in a state of utter exhaustion.

Yet, for some horrifying and unfathomable reason, Yuugi found himself not caring at all.

Who cared if he didn’t study for the exams? Who cared if he didn’t pass?

_Atem…_

Grabbing the nearest pillow, Yuugi hugged it to himself, a silly grin spreading onto his face. The prince hadn’t been angry with him – in fact, it had been the exact opposite: he had been worried! And even though Yuugi did regret causing distress for Atem like that (the mere thought alone was enough to make his heart drop) at the same time, the boy had been incredibly touched, too.

And what kind of night they had had! Filled with fun and games, just like before –

_“…I…I think I’ll have something important to tell you.”_

– and perhaps even something…more?

_Stop it!_

Yuugi shook his head, hitting it against the pillow. Despite his giddy good mood, he was starting to feel the effects of staying up all night: it was clear that he wouldn’t be able to study properly anymore – not at this ungodly hour. He yawned (a sign of finally admitting defeat) and closed the book he had been trying to decipher with heavy eyes hazed by near-sleep.

Before getting under the covers however, Yuugi decided to make a brief visit to the attic. Up there, he gathered the last of the fabrics he had: a pile of white silk was what he managed to find. He smiled while spreading out one of the cloths in his hands, holding it up for inspection: these would serve nicely for his costume of choice. Downstairs, he set the materials down onto the coffee table, ready for tomorrow.

On his way to bed, the witch checked the lunar calendar he kept between the pages of his notebook. He hoped his memory hadn’t failed him; otherwise, there would be a lot of improvisation in store for him. Fortunately, the page looked just like he had remembered it: a big yellow circle stood next to tomorrow’s date – perfect.

It was going to be full moon.

With a happy sigh, the boy began to dream.

* * *

Yuugi decided to get up early, in spite of having slept only for a few hours. It wasn’t because he was in a hurry (far from it, in fact – he had lots of time to prepare for the night, as well as to study, too.) No, he was wide awake at eight o´clock in the morning because of the sheer anticipation that kept rushing through him, turning his veins into miniature rapids. The boy felt like he simply couldn’t sit still; instead, he opted to carry his books around the house, walking back and forth while turning a page after another, and every now and then having a sip of coffee between chapters.

Finally, when Yuugi felt like he couldn’t have gone on any longer (his eyes had begun to ache and his vision was acting funny; not to mention that his throat was still killing him) the familiar evening chill arrived, sneaking in like a shadow of a person. It was his cue to begin working – with a slam, the grimoires were closed and forgotten.

The witch wanted to go classy for the final night, and he hoped that the traditional ensemble of slacks and a tailcoat, worn with a vest, would do the trick. Taking the necessary measurements, the boy marked and cut the fabrics accordingly, before pinning the matching pieces of cloth onto each other, and then carefully sewing them together. The slacks were easy enough, as was the vest – he had Grandma’s patterns helping him with those, after all – but the end parts of the tailcoat proved more difficult. In the end, Yuugi had to resort to a spell to get the tails right: if he had continued with the conventional methods, he doubted the results would have looked as nice.

After giving the attire a fitting – so far so good – Yuugi stole a quick glance at the outside: dusk had already fallen, and soon there would be a clear night sky waiting for him. So, after fixing a few messy stitches and double-checking the seams, he placed his homemade clothes into a laundry basket, and made his way to the well that stood at the backyard.

While he was carefully lowering the wooden bucket in to gather water, Yuugi craned up to have another look at the sky: fortunately, he saw no clouds nearby that could have obscured the moon.

Up against the black canvas of the night, the celestial body showed herself in her full beauty. Glowing with the light gifted to her by the sun, the moon shone bright enough to illuminate half of the forest, despite the thick foliage trying its best to shroud it. At the sight, Yuugi couldn’t help but to feel a shiver run across his spine – a light lunacy seemed to infect him, clouding his thoughts (or perhaps he was just feeling the sleep deprivation.)

Pulling the bucket up from the well, the boy placed it down onto the ground, next to the open laundry basket. Then, picking up a piece of clothing one at a time, he dunked them all into the pail (the water was so cold that it almost felt like his skin was being scorched off) until the whole suit was submerged.

Murmuring soundlessly, Yuugi waited for the reflection of the moon to appear on the surface of the water. Finally seeing the pale lady present herself in all her fullness, the boy moved to shatter the image into pieces by plunging his hand into the bucket, and then stirring its contents. After a few moments of rigorous swishing (which left his fingers numb and aching pink and purple) the water began to shimmer – as if someone had dropped coins onto the bottom of the pail, and now the pennies were catching light, shining like little lanterns.

Slowly, the glimmering got brighter – like the constant to-and-fro motions were infusing it with the water – until the contents no longer stayed see-through: instead of water, the bucket now seemed to house something else entirely. Liquid silver, someone of the non-magical folk might have said (the thought made Yuugi chuckle internally) but in reality, it was just ordinary well water enchanted to capture and encase moonlight.

Finally, deciding that he had to pull his hand out or lest he suffer frostbite, Yuugi picked up the now soaked suit out of the pail. Straightening the clothes with a flick, he gave them one long inspecting look, before drying the whole ensemble with a simple snap of his fingers.

The suit _glowed_.

Gleaming and glimmering, the white silk now shone silver, lunar light embedded in its threads. As pale as the face of the moon, the clothes shimmered eerily against the black backdrop of the night, forming a faint silver lining – like the suit itself had acquired an aura of its own.

It was as if the moon herself had decided to descend into Yuugi’s hands.

He donned the suit – shivering as the cloth still felt a little chilly against his skin – and pinned a small piece of translucent leftover cloth to cover his face, letting it conceal his eyes like a veil. However, the boy stopped abruptly when buttoning up his vest. Turning on his heel, the witch ran inside, opening his closet and rummaging through its contents – all in vain.

He had no suitable shoes to wear with his attire – any pair the boy tried on simply seemed ruin the whole ensemble. As childish as it was, panic struck Yuugi’s core; what was he going to do? He couldn’t possibly come to the ball barefooted – no, that simply wouldn’t do. But he couldn’t leave out of it either, could he? Atem was waiting for him – the prince had even said that he had something important to tell him tonight – he _had_ to go!

Just as Yuugi was about to lose his mind, a lone idea shone through his despair. Jumping up, he ran to the backroom, frantically searching the shelves for the one item that could help him –

A crystal ball.

As an apprentice, divination was one of the subjects Yuugi was required to learn: and although greatly belittled and even straight-out ridiculed by the majority of the witch population, it was still considered an obligatory part of the standard curriculum of magical studies.

Divination was a curious subject, because unlike many other fields of witchcraft, it had several varied ways of realization: these ranged all the way from reading the intestines of a butchered animal to the tradition of consulting tea leaves.

Yuugi had never been that keen on the practice of clairvoyance – it seemed like cheating to him, as ridiculous as it sounded – but he had invested in a crystal ball at his master’s insistence (although the boy would have preferred a tarot deck himself.) However, his wasn’t actually made of real quartz – those things usually ended up costing you an arm and a leg – but it was, in fact, a simple solid glass sphere.

Smiling in both relief and triumph, Yuugi held this fragile object in his hands, and began once again mouthing under his breath. Slowly, he kneaded his palms against the cool, round surface, keeping a firm grip on it, until he felt it starting to soften. Soon, the glass had turned mouldable in his hands, resembling something between clay and taffy in consistency.

With one well-worded spell, the piece of cold-molten glass began to take the shape of a heeled shoe; and it took little to no time before Yuugi could adorn his feet with a pair of beautiful glass slippers. However, despite his best efforts in trying to be as quick as possible, the boy noticed that he was about run late. With hasty, teetering steps, he retrieved his broom –

 – and began to soar towards the castle.

* * *

To say that Atem was anxious would have been an understatement of grave quality. He was near nervous wreck by now: wrestling with both his feelings, as well as the upcoming challenge that he still wasn’t quite sure he could face –  and all this was coupled with the fact that Yuugi was about to be late; or what if he wouldn’t turn up at all –?

However, the prince’s fears were in vain so far. As he saw the boy running across the castle yard, steadily approaching, the sight brought the heir-to-the-throne both relief and unease. Yuugi looked just as beautiful as on the previous nights, glowing in the dark like the moon herself – the vision was almost heavenly for Atem’s tired eyes.

“Yuugi…” he murmured softly as he embraced the other in a short but sweet greeting, “I’m glad you came.”

“Shall we?” he inquired, once again offering the boy his arm, which Yuugi gladly accepted – his face flushed a lovely shade of pink beneath his veil as he smiled.

The two began their leisurely walk across the castle grounds. Hand in hand, they strolled along the neat footpaths, occasionally stopping to admire the magnificent starlit sky. From time to time, Atem would point out constellations he could find with the naked eye, briefly recapping bits and pieces of the stories his nanny had used to tell him about them when he had still been but a wee ankle-biter. Yuugi listened, attentive as ever, following the prince’s line of sight as the other pointed out another cluster of bright lights, giving them a name and a tale to go with it.

“See, those two bright ones, up there? If you connect them, and then follow the line – you’ll get to the North Star.”

Atem smiled to himself, reminiscing the words heard long ago.

“If you know how to find it…” he murmured, “…you’re never really lost, you know?”

Eventually, the pair was greeted by dainty, wispy willows, which hung over the royal garden (now spread out before them, resembling a miniature valley, hidden from view) like waterfalls made of branches and leaves. The flowers in soil were asleep, slumbering in their beds: most curled up back to a bud, awaiting the sunrise. But a few oddballs, headstrong in their nature, were defying this so-called natural order: instead opting to bathe under the moon, awake. Their colours were washed out, of pink and white and grey, mixed with a rare shade of baby blue, glowing pale in the low light.

A lone vine was one of these strangers, refusing to sleep like its daylight-loving brethren. Its blossoms resembled those of lilies, and its stem was coiled against a wooden ornament frame as if to flaunt them with flourish – Atem cupped one of the delicate clusters of petals in his hand, tilting it between his fingers.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured softly, more to himself than to anyone else.

Soft music could be heard – the orchestra had begun to play another piece back at the castle. In the garden, it almost sounded like listening to a music box: one with a rusty old key, and a ballerina dancing on the top. The notes were tinkling, mingled with the rustling of the trees and the muffled laughter of people – it was almost like hearing murmurs from another world, across the Milky Way.

It also served as a reminder of sorts; that right now, the two of them were alone, with nothing but each other as their company.

It wasn’t an unpleasant thought.

The music continued to play, and before long, a certain tone began to slip between the notes, going almost unnoticed at first: a new addition. Vocals – dark and dulcet-like – rose, quiet but steady, from between the folds of the music, emerging beneath the strings and the woodwinds –

Someone was singing.

The lyrics were but a distant hum, like a memory long forgotten – but the voice sounded still nigh-hauntingly beautiful.

Atem looked at Yuugi; the boy gave him his hand.

They began to dance, together in their lonesome.

Their steps were light, and their movements slow, swaying in the rhythm of the faraway song. Atem led them across the garden in gentle turns, gliding under the hanging branches, all the while pulling Yuugi closer –

He felt warm.

The moon was at her highest, shining upon them – it almost felt like a blessing of a kind.

It was time.

“I…” Atem murmured, pulling them over a turn.

“I think…I said I had something important to tell you, didn’t I?”

Another turn.

“Well…I…”

The veil was lifted; a face revealed.

“…I…I think…”

_Yuugi._

“…I think I love you.”

The castle clock struck twelve.


	12. Little Red Riding Hood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for bookmarking/commenting/giving this story a kudos!

Time stood frozen.

Atem was still talking, his cheeks deepening in colour the more he went on – but Yuugi couldn’t hear him anymore. The boy’s ears were ringing, being hit by a piercing ache each time an echo rolled off the clock tower: there was nothing but a reverberating, abysmal chime after another travelling across him, sinking deep, until the sound seemed to be embedded into his very being.

The booming grew louder and louder by every strike of the clock. Yuugi felt them pound his ribs, making them creak; making it feel like his bones would soon collapse over his heart and lungs, forcing them into one big bloody clump. Something was constricting him, squeezing – cutting off his air –

_“I will return in a few days, at twelve o’clock sharp – at midnight.”_

Yuugi panicked. He felt full-blown hysteria hit, paralyzing him; he couldn’t move.

Like a prey caught in between the jaws of a wolf, he was immobilized by utter fear that was somehow primal in its nature. He could feel the phantom fangs’ weight resting against his leg, not yet digging into the flesh or even breaking the skin, but the pressure was still there, unchanging: a warning.

He could do nothing but stand there, waiting.

“Yuugi…? Are you alright?”

Then the blow came – sudden, but mercifully quick as well – like someone had buried their hands into his hair and tugged (hard enough to tear some strands straight off the scalp.) He felt tears sting his closed eyes (was he crying?) but he gritted his teeth to bear it.

Jounouchi had been right: teleportation runes didn’t provide a very comfortable way of travel – least of all when forcefully executed by someone else a fair distance away.

The ground disappeared from beneath Yuugi’s feet with a roar.

_“YUUGI!”_

He heard someone yell his name. It took him a split second to realize that it must have been Atem (Atem – he had been with Atem, in the garden, they had been in the garden – and they had…they had…)

Pain erupted in the side of his face.

Yuugi opened his eyes, his hand instinctively rising up to cup his cheek, which now shone bright red, as if rouged. He was gazing at the hardwood floor of his cottage in a daze, and when he raised his head, he saw the familiar piercing glare staring back at him.

The witch apprentice met his master’s eyes.

Dartz didn’t look angry; in fact, now that Yuugi thought about it, he had rarely seen the man look genuinely furious. Upset and annoyed, sure (particularly at the times when, for some reason or another, Yuugi hadn’t been able to concentrate on some exercise or given task at hand – the boy had always had a bad tendency to be a bit of a scatterbrain sometimes.) 

Yuugi took this as an opportunity to apologize – he could try to appease his master before anything too serious could happen: he was feeling guilty and remorseful enough already, almost desperate for forgiveness. If he could just _explain_ everything…

He bowed low, and then rose up to meet the other face-to-face. But before he could even begin to move his lips to mouth the words needed, or to gesture with his hands – Dartz laughed.

“Oh _Yuugi_ ,” he shushed, as if talking to a dear friend or a child, “save your breath, please. We both know that making up excuses in your situation would be... _challenging_ , to say the least.”

Dartz seemed to be almost amused by his own words, because when he continued, he sounded like he was holding back a chuckle – as if he was about to tell the punchline to a joke.

“We could say the cat got your tongue, no?”

He didn’t laugh (though a part of Yuugi was expecting him to) but rather smiled amicably, crouching down to the other’s level – and suddenly, he reached out, winding his hand around Yuugi’s ankle and proceeding to yank the whole length of the leg to him – this led to Yuugi losing his balance, and the boy fell and hit his head against the floor.

“My,” Dartz breathed out, “what a beautiful pair of slippers you have here!” He cupped one of the glass shoes in his hands, sliding a long, slender finger from the clasp to the very tip of the shoe, before dipping down. He hummed, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, as he ran a nail up the arch of the foot, and then stopped to give the bottom of the heel a quick tap.

“Yes, quite the craftsmanship…”he murmured softly, sounding pleased.

Yuugi sighed silently under his breath, feeling the clawed grip on his heart loosen. His head ached, having collided with the floor (not to mention that he was still experiencing the aftershock from being forcibly put under the influence of a teleportation rune) but the relief he felt worked wonders as a painkiller.

“Did you enchant these yourself?”

Yuugi nodded eagerly, unable to resist a grin as he detected a clear wisp of pride in his master’s voice. Crafting glass – particularly into such an intricate shape as a shoe, which was supposed to be both beautiful, as well as practical – was no easy feat; not even for the more experienced witches. Glass was an especially finicky material to work with, whether there was magic involved or not: fragile by nature, and easy to break, as it couldn’t usually take that much pressure before shattering. To handle and enchant it properly, you had to learn how to evenly distribute your mana – which was much more difficult than it sounded.

“I’ve taught you well, it seems…”

It looked like Dartz was particularly taken with this accomplishment in magical crafting, Yuugi noted (if the fact that the man was still holding onto the shoe was any indication.) So, perhaps there was still hope left for him after all? For the boy knew that what he had done was wrong, as he had not only disobeyed a direct order given to him by his master, but he had also broken one of the rules of the Witches’ Codex; but on the other hand, he had provided proof of his skills as an apprentice witch, if in a rather roundabout way. Of course, some sort of sanction would no doubt still be in order, but –

“– but don’t you think these things are a little uncomfortable?”

Yuugi blinked. What did Dartz mean by that? Sure, strutting in high heels wasn’t exactly like walking on cloud nine, but they weren’t the Spanish boots either. The fact that the slippers were made of glass instead of, say, leather, made hardly any difference to him, really.

“Yuugi, my boy…with uncomfortable, I merely meant to lament how cold it must be for you in these shoes. It is…quite chilly out there tonight, after all.”

Yuugi shook his head, silent laughter bubbling up his throat. What was his master talking about? He wasn’t feeling cold at all – not in the least! He hadn’t been so stupid (although the boy did admit having done quite many a daft thing lately) as not to lace some artificial warmth into the slippers while making them: it was nothing a quick rune couldn’t do.

Dartz chuckled, too, tugging the boy upright.

“Come on, take a seat – let’s warm up those feet a bit, shall we?” he said, smiling – pulling up a chair next to hearth, ushering Yuugi to sit –

“Good thing I’ve just fed the furnace.”

* * *

Jounouchi was taking a leisurely walk along one of the many footpaths spread across the castle grounds. He had decided that a little breather was in order: the ballroom had been filled to the brim with stuck-up people, and, quite frankly, the blond was getting sick of being shoved and stepped on.

Of course, Jounouchi knew very well that he was just a simple servant; thus, his job was to assist the guests to the best of his ability (and fortunately, that somehow also meant sampling the buffet foods.) Nonetheless, while he _was_ a mere peasant, that didn’t mean that people with noble backgrounds could treat him like a mindless puppet; as if he was there only to be ordered around!

So, the blond had snatched up a plate with a small assortment of snacks, and promptly marched out into the cool night air – the others could manage for a few moments without him. No one had really seen him leave, either (one of the side-effects of being a waiter; nobody ever noticed you – at least not until they suddenly needed you to do something for them) so Jounouchi was confident that he could have his little outing without ending up in any too serious trouble. Besides, he really wanted to go check on the two lovebirds –

Jounouchi barked out a laugh, and he hastily covered up his mouth to muffle it. The wicked grin that split his face looked almost comically deranged in the moonlight, and now the sound of gross chuckling was accompanying the soft rustling of the trees.

He wondered if Atem had managed to spit out the magic words yet – probably not, he thought. The guy sure liked to play all cool and tough, but in the end, he was really just one big wimp (at this, a tiny voice resembling that of Atem berated him – _you’re just as big of a chicken yourself, remember?_ – but it was swiftly silenced.)

He imagined that at this point, the prince had most likely either gone completely mute (now there was a sight Jounouchi would pay to see!) or he was probably babbling incoherent nonsense as a way of striking up an awkward conversation – which in turn would be the sign that Atem had finally gone off his rocker for good, the blond decided.

Or perhaps the prince _had_ managed to confess (in a very inelegant way, naturally) and Jounouchi would catch the two doing the kissy-kissy – that would make excellent blackmail material; he would never let Atem live it down!

With that nasty piece of a plot concocting in his head – the blond was already imagining all the possible comebacks he would have to Atem’s future quips with this new change of events – Jounouchi almost didn’t see the prince running towards him. In fact, he doubted he would have noticed him at all, had Atem not tripped in his hurry, and thus barrelled straight into him.

“W-whoa!” Jounouchi exclaimed loudly, barely keeping his balance. The plate filled with goodies teetered precariously in his hand – but fortunately, it did not tilt over. After seeing that no food was wasted, he turned to look at the prince, who was already scampering back up to his feet.

Jounouchi grabbed him by the arm.

“Hey, buddy – what’s the rush? The party ain’t over by a long shot!”

Atem _snarled_.

Jounouchi pulled his hand away as if he had been burned.

“Dude, what’s your damage –“ he was about to shout, offended (first the guy not only runs into him, but then he also has the audacity to _growl_ at him, too; that was a first for Atem) but the prince was already up and running, kicking up dirt as he went.

Jounouchi huffed. He began to empty what little there was left on his plate (a biscuit and half a tuna sandwich) and having done that, he decided to follow after the guy: if the other was about to do something stupid – and he probably was – then the blond wanted a first-row seat.

(He was a bit worried, too – but only a bit.)

It was easy to find Atem – all Jounouchi had to do was to follow the shocked faces (one guest in particular looked like they were about to either faint or scream; Jounouchi didn’t know which one it would be, but he didn’t want to stay around to find out, either.) Finally, he met Atem at the stables. The prince was bridling one of the horses, obviously fuming – his shaking hands were tugging at the slips of leather in an almost violent way.

Jounouchi, deciding to live dangerously, tapped the other on the shoulder.

“Hey, pal – what’s going on? Ya okay?”

He was fully expecting to get majorly chewed out (for although it was a rare occurrence, Jounouchi had once witnessed one of Atem’s temper tantrums – it hadn’t been a pretty sight) and because of this, the blond almost jumped out of his skin when, instead of blowing up, Atem simply turned to stare at him, looking pale like he had just seen a ghost.

Something had gone horribly wrong.

“…did…did Yuugi…like, ya know…” Jounouchi ventured to question, not knowing how to handle the matter of possible rejection tactfully (why on earth would the witch even turn him down – he was clearly in love with the other, too!)

Atem shook his head, turning around to check the cinch one more time before mounting the horse.

“It’s nothing like that. I – I just have to go.”

Jounouchi felt a chill run down his spine at Atem’s tone of voice: it was shaky, almost unrecognizable.

“…that serious?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer; one look at that face was enough to tell him that this was no small problem with an easy do-it-yourself solution to it.

Still, the prince nodded briefly, his expression solemn, confirming Jounouchi’s thoughts.

“…yeah,” he said, grimly, “I…I think Yuugi is in trouble.”

Atem squeezed the reins in his hands; his eyes were hidden behind a veil of messy bangs.

“He…he disappeared, just like that – and no, he didn’t do it on his own this time! Don’t give me that look!”

He was shaking.

“He – Yuugi was in _pain_ , Jounouchi – he was _crying_ –!”

The prince’s voice cracked. He shook his head vigorously, almost angrily, his hair looking even more wild and intimidating than usual as it swished forth like a whip. Suddenly, he slumped where he sat, and when he spoke, he sounded like he hadn’t slept well in weeks (briefly, the other wondered if this was actually the case – Atem certainly looked tired enough, with his skin dark and drawn under the eyes.)

“I…I’m going to visit the cottage, to see if he’s alright, okay? You stay here.”

The blond blew a fuse.

“What! Are ya crazy?!” he yelled, his hands balling up into fists, nails biting into the skin of his palms, “I ain’t letting ya go alone – who knows what’s in there! Yuugi might need both of us –!”

“ _THAT’S AN_ _ORDER_!”

Jounouchi felt like he had been slapped.

* * *

 

Ordering his friend like that had been a low blow, and Atem knew it very well (as it was evident by the guilt that was now nestling in the prince’s gut, mingling with his worry and adding to his blatant unease.) Jounouchi and he – they had known each other for who knew how long (he doubted either of them remembered anymore, to be honest) but despite having been close for years, the gap between their social statuses had always been somewhat of a sore spot for the blond.

Jounouchi came from a broken home: having an alcoholic drunk of a father, who later died of liver failure (“ _Good riddance_ ”, the prince had once heard Jounouchi say about him on the rare odd times he spoke about the man at all.) Widowed, Jounouchi’s mother had slowly begun to succumb to depression – and her state had only got worse when Shizuka had started to show signs of losing her eyesight.

At that point, Atem had seen how close to collapsing Jounouchi himself had been, too – the blond had tried his best to keep up a happy and goofy front for the others, but at the same time, Shizuka was his all and everything: to have a disease suddenly come and destroy her dreams of being an artist had been hard for him, too. And then, after Shizuka had been cured, the two had had to lose their mother soon after –

Atem shook his head. This was not the time to dwell on those days, now. He gave the horse another swift kick, spurring her into faster gallop.

Yes, he regretted hitting his friend where it hurt the most (having issued him with a command like a lowly subject) but he couldn’t let Jounouchi come with him; the prince had bad enough a feeling about all this already. It was an ominous sensation: like a lone chill that was creeping down your spine one moment, then gone the next – but still never quite leaving you for good.

Whatever it was (whatever would happen, whatever he would encounter, whatever he would find) Atem would rather not have anyone else face it if he could help it –

– or perhaps the prince was simply upset, and therefore overly cautious. Perhaps the situation wasn’t all that dire at all: maybe Yuugi _had_ just left by himself – most likely because he had been too scared to reject the prince (the boy had trouble saying “no” to anyone about anything, really; it would be no surprise.)

This meant that Atem must have imagined the tears and the scrunched-up expression of pain Yuugi had been wearing when he had disappeared – it had simply been but a trick of the light. Thus, the real reason why the prince was on his way to visit the boy wasn’t because he wished to check up on him, but because he wanted an honest answer to his confession –

 – a selfish reason, above and over all else.

However, being both the heir to the throne of Domino, as well as an avid gamer, Atem had learned to trust his intuition at a surprisingly young age. It was his last line of defence, should everything else fail; his weapon of choice, so to speak. It had been honed by all the hardships he had faced throughout his life, and to this day, it had served him most impeccably.

And right now, this same gut instinct that had kept him on a winning streak (and alive) for all his years, was telling him to be careful. In fact, the deeper the prince ventured into the thick woods, the more alarms began to go off in his head, urging him to just turn around and flee. His steed seemed to share the same thoughts, for when they reached the path leading to the clearing, the mare suddenly rooted to the spot – and no matter what Atem did, she refused to move: only neighing in distress when asked to continue.

This left the prince no choice but to dismount. He gave the mare a pat on the muzzle, hoping that it would calm her down, before leaving – he would have to carry on by foot for the rest of the way; fortunately, Yuugi’s cabin was but a short jog away at this point.

Atem did his best to keep his pace swift, not wanting to waste any time; but the unruly flora, not to mention the big protruding tree roots, made it frustratingly difficult. He had visited the Turtle Forest on dozens of occasions after meeting Yuugi for the first time, but back then, it had always been on horseback: thus, the journey had been a relatively comfortable ride each time (though how enjoyable it had been for the horse, he didn’t know.) But now that the prince had to actually go the distance himself –

 – it wasn’t nearly as easy as one might have thought. And as he was pulling himself up after his third fall, mouth full of dirt, Atem began to see why people avoided this place: the whole woods seemed just to have it out for humans and other bipedal beings. The bed of the forest was an uneven mess, covered in plants that were not only huge, but slippery as well – and the occasional root that was busy playing peek-a-boo amongst the moss certainly didn’t help the matters.

It was more than the mischievous plant life, too. Because of the thick foliage blocking out the sunlight, it was almost impossible to see where exactly you were about to put your foot down on. So, essentially, you were bound to trip over something sooner or later, no matter what you did. Moreover, because of the constant shade, it was almost always frigid in the woods, too, regardless of the weather.

The place was also known as nature’s own maze; it was incredibly easy to get lost in here if you weren’t absolutely sure on your current location, and already familiar with the surroundings. Luckily for Atem, all he had to was to follow the path that lay there right in front of him (so at least he had no fear of losing his way) but the unfortunate kids who decided to have a little stroll in the woods because of sheer curiosity or a dare –

 – well, there was a reason why parents told their children not to come here.

Eventually, after what felt like a short eternity to him, the prince finally made it to the clearing (worse for wear, but otherwise alive.) Outwards, nothing seemed amiss: the cottage was still up, with no broken windows or a kicked-down door – there was even smoke coming up from the chimney.

The garden hadn’t been ransacked, either: vegetables and herbs sat neatly in their own beds (a number of them looked like they were ready to be harvested, too.)

Everything seemed to be just fine –

 – so why didn’t the nagging feeling at the back of his mind go away?

The hairs on the back of Atem’s neck stood up, and his arms became riddled with goose bumps as he approached the house. For the first time in a long while, the small pouch in his pocket felt heavy again.

The prince waited before the witch’s doorstep for a long time, not knowing whether or not enter. He fought to find his bearings, to silence the alarms that were now full-out blaring in his head – but eventually, he did open the door.

A part of him wished he hadn’t done that.


	13. Big Bad Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And a final thank you to all of you! It has been a fun ride, no?

_“You really don’t understand, do you?”_

Yuugi was paralyzed; he couldn’t move.

There was something holding him in place, not letting him retreat (he wanted to curl up – just lock his arms around his knees and close his eyes and _disappear_.) It felt heavy: as if there were a dozen pairs of arms wound around him, all pressing down on him as one – like living shackles. Their grip felt hard enough to be bruising (although Yuugi didn’t know if they were actually even capable of leaving real corporeal bruises in their wake, whatever they were) and tight enough to assure him that they could indeed dislocate each and every single bone and joint in his body if necessary.

All they required was an order; even a simple snap of a finger would be enough.

The little leeway he had been left with was next to useless: no matter how far back Yuugi could tilt his head, it wouldn’t help him escape. Nevertheless, he arched back anyway, over and over again; it was all he could do, after all. And although his struggles seemed to be in vain, every time the boy pulled away, even for just the few inches he could (only to be inevitably yanked back by the invisible hands) he found himself thinking that perhaps _this_ time, he could make it – only to fall short, and try again.

The sense of false hope was agonizing.

Along with moving his head and neck, Yuugi could also wriggle his fingers, as even though his arms were tightly locked and pressed against his sides, he could move his digits – if only a little. However, it didn’t bring him much relief; the boy could only grip the seat he was on, and dig his nails into the wood.

In the end, it just made it hurt more.

_“Shadows…I did tell you about them on one occasion, remember?”_

Yuugi heard the voice again, but it was getting more and more difficult for him to listen to it; he couldn’t comprehend what it was saying. Each sound felt muted to the boy, like his ears had been stuffed with cotton. He couldn’t concentrate: as the voice continued to drone on, it was becoming more and more slurred and garbled – the words just kept slipping away –

_“They are rather peculiar creatures, and quite rare to come by; and an infestation like that…well, I’d say that’s a once-in-a-lifetime find. Then again, you’ve always had your way with the odds…”_

It was getting harder to breathe, too. The air was hot – close to scorching his already abused larynx. The boy had to draw in oxygen in short gasps, and the stench that clung to his every new breath was repulsive enough to clog up his nostrils. His throat was dry: it felt itchy and hot, more inflamed that it had ever been before (the prickly sensation made Yuugi want to claw the insides of his trachea to the point of bleeding.) Each gulp of air that he took seemed to result in him either coughing or gagging; and sometimes the boy did both, which almost caused him to choke on his own saliva.

_“They’re very powerful beings – if handled correctly, of course.”_

His eyes watered and itched; he was desperate to rub them, to do something to soothe the sting (although that was the least of Yuugi’s worries) but his hands refused to budge from their dug grooves. They were anchored, nails drawn and buried in the splintered wood. The sharp little pieces of oak poked his fingers, scraping and breaking the skin (when the boy felt something wet running down and coating his palms, he didn’t know whether it was sweat or blood.)

_“I’d like to acquire a few of them for myself; do some research, run a few tests…”_

Black had begun to creep along the sides of his vision, and the tears in his eyes were already blurring his view – it was almost impossible for Yuugi to see anything at all anymore. His ears were ringing, and although the sound was more blaring than a murder of crows screaming in the morn, it was slowly lulling him to sleep. He had started to feel light-headed; the blood in his veins was rushing upwards, causing chills to run across his body –

He couldn’t think straight anymore…he just…

_…make it stop…_

Yuugi was teetering on the edge of oblivion: he was about to tilt over, head-first and backwards into the unknown, yet inviting darkness. All he had to do was to give in; to let nature take its course. It would be so _easy_ –

_“I wonder when your Prince Charming will arrive.”_

The darkness receded, if only a little, for what the voice said jolted a part of the boy back into somewhere in-between (in his mind, there was only twilight.) A feeling of nostalgia washed over him, brought on by the words; they were somehow familiar –

_…prince?_

A face came to his mind. It was fuzzy at first, but the more he thought about it, the easier it became to piece it together, like a puzzle: sharp eyes and familiar hair, dark skin…

Eventually, the face was followed by a name:

_…Atem…_

Before Yuugi could dig through his memories to recall more, the voice continued:

_“He will come shortly, I’d presume. Otherwise, we are going to have a little problem here. I’m a busy man, you see; I cannot wait forever – and neither can you. Oh dear…”_

The voice sounded clearer to him now – and what Yuugi heard it insinuate sent fear crashing straight down his spine. Suddenly, the daze in his mind was gone, washed away by the sheer panic: everything came back to him with no warning given.

The sensation was akin to getting one’s head smashed with a brick.

_No!_

The boy was hysterical; gasping, he was being strangled by his very own thoughts.

He knew that tone: he recognized the way those words were always murmured with a small smile and a pleasant front; and yet they had never failed to leave him filled with grim anticipation –

That tone never bode well–!

_“A small penalty might be in order – arriving late is so terribly impolite. Wasting someone’s time should be considered a crime, really…”_

Yuugi wanted to cry.

_…no, don’t…_

His fingers curled, and the chipped nails dug even deeper into the wood (a new cut appeared.)

_…don’t you dare…_

A wheeze left his lips –

_…stop…!_

– but it went unheard.

Suddenly, the boy was lifted up; sharp, bony fingers pressed against his skin.

Someone had opened the door.

* * *

There was a man whom Atem didn’t recognize: someone he didn’t know. He was tall and lean; most definitely considered handsome by many. Indeed, the man seemed nigh regal-like in appearance – Atem could almost picture him in a crown. He had a good posture, which he carried with pride, and a sharp face that was accompanied by a pair of piercing eyes of the most peculiar of colours.

He was also donning robes with intricate embroidering, which was a dead giveaway: the sign that told the prince that the man was a witch – and a certified one at that. The sleeves of the robes were long and layered, giving them a somewhat oriental look. From amongst them, spindly fingers emerged, holding onto someone –

_Yuugi._

The boy was being held up by the back of his neck: the stranger was gripping his collar, keeping him upright by force. In fact, it looked like he was just dangling there, unable to stand on his own; being a mere limp doll in the hands of his puppeteer.

There was almost no colour left on his face (save for the other cheek that looked like it was in the middle of bruising: swollen and dark and _painful_ ) and he looked ashen all over. He was sweating, too: clusters of tangled strands of hair stuck to the pale skin as if glued.

Head tilted and slumped against his chest, Atem couldn’t get a good look at his eyes; he wouldn’t have known the boy was conscious had it not been for the small twitch of his fingers.

Hoisted up like that (held up by a man twice as tall) Yuugi was barely staying on his feet –

 – or on what was left of them, anyway.

Encased in molten glass, they were now closer to being stumps of shredded meat than a pair of working feet. A mangled mess, supported by not yet fully-hardened glass, was all the boy was standing on. The vague shape of feet was still there, if only barely – the arches were recognizable, but the toes had given away: now only messy, uneven bunches of small bones remained, sticking out like tiny rake tines.

The glass had burnt away flesh while burrowing into the limbs, peeling off the soft skin; melting it. Left behind were gaping holes, dark and brittle at the edges, looking like they could crumble at a touch. Inside the maws, white bone shone in between the pale pink tendons like baby teeth.

The translucent clumps, entrapping the flesh like homemade amber (a grotesque mock-up of the cement shoes, only see-through for someone’s viewing pleasure) glowed faintly red, like a smudged paper lantern; the glass was still hot, having been smelted not too long ago. It was slowly burning the floor Yuugi stood on – patches of black and brown were being branded onto the hardwood, accompanied by lazy wisps of smoke.

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth.

The man spoke.

“Ah – looks like our long-awaited guest has finally arrived…”

He had a voice most pleasant: soft and rich, with a hint of a foreign lilt.

“Please – have a seat,” he said, gesturing to a lone chair next to the fireplace. It had a broken leg, standing like a limping man. There were small crevices, not bigger than the tip of a human pinkie, indented into the sides of the wooden seat.

They looked like scratch marks.

“Oh?” the man exclaimed, his head tilting to the side in a mocking imitation of curiosity, “Is there something wrong, Your Highness? Is the seat not to your liking?”

He smiled amiably.

“Or perhaps the cat has got a hold of your tongue? It is rather cumbersome, isn’t it?” he ventured to say, turning to have a look at Yuugi: “My apprentice here is currently suffering from the same problem, if you must know…terribly unfortunate indeed –“

“Let go –”

Atem didn’t know how he regained the control over his own voice. His mouth was dry, his lips and tongue heavy, but nevertheless, he spoke; but even then, the voice he heard coming from himself sounded strange, foreign.

“– let Yuugi go. Now.”

The man continued to smile with but a small twinkle in his eye.

“I could, certainly…” he said, his voice near a chuckle, “…but only with a good incentive. A true witch never gives anything away for free, after all; nor does anything for anyone without a proper payment, don’t you know?”

_That’s not what Yuugi told me. He’s always helped us, no matter what –!_

There was a somewhat cat-like quality to that tone of voice (Atem was almost expecting to see the man’s pupils turn into slits like a feline’s.) It was devious, like a swindler’s who was being shamelessly cunning and sly in their opponent’s face, all the while knowing that their plan was going to be a guaranteed success nonetheless. It was the voice of someone who bargained for a living – and often with stakes that were far too high.

“Interested in the price, are you?”

The man brought out another set of spider-like digits, and pointed a thin finger – like a gourmand selecting his next treat – at Atem’s hip; at his pocket, to be more precise.

“There,” he said, lazily, “that thing you carry with you – I want it.”

The prince held the small bag containing the pieces of the Millennium Pendant (when had he pulled it out? He didn’t remember reaching for it –) It sat innocuously on his palm, suddenly seemingly free of its previous heavy weight.

The man grinned, revealing a row of pearly white teeth. His eyes glinted at the sight of the pouch, as if the cat in him had finally spotted a potential prey.

“It was mine to begin with, you see…” he said, his tone tinted blue by just a touch of pretend heartache; feigned sorrow that neither of them believed in. And it didn’t last for long: Yuugi’s stained tailcoat collar was given a harsh tug, which was followed by the sound of a seam tearing apart.

“– before this simpleton of an apprentice gave it to you.”

The man reached out with his hand, but it was all just for show: he wasn’t in a hurry, and certainly had no need for begging – both of them knew which party here held the best hand of cards.

“I’d like to have it back now, if you don’t mind.”

Atem _did_ mind – this proposed trade came with an obvious ulterior motive. And although the prince couldn’t tell what exactly it was, he could still see past the paper-thin façade with ease. It was like the man wasn’t even trying to hide it in any sort of way; instead opting to leave it there, in almost plain sight, just to tease him (which, considering how pompous the man was acting about his own foolproof plan, could have very well been the case.)

But then again, even if he had hidden motives for regaining the pieces of the Pendant – be it whatever from bad to downright evil – what other choice did Atem have? If he refused, Yuugi would just suffer more, and the man would probably take what he wanted by force, anyway (and even though the prince was trained in light combat and fencing, he doubted he would fare against a full-fledged witch.)

For the first time in his whole life, Atem was looking at his own loss.

He felt ill, and his stomach knotted on the spot, cramping – the mere sight of this man (him and his smug little grin) made him feel outright nauseous. In his mouth, he tasted something vile; but he forced himself to swallow.

_So, this is the bitter taste of defeat, huh?_

He needed something to drink.

_I don’t like it – make it go away._

With a violent throw, the pouch was tossed over.

* * *

_…STOP!_

* * *

Suddenly, Yuugi had the pouch in his bleeding hands: he was hacking, having ripped himself free –

He turned, and the glass feet followed behind, being dragged across the floor like lead weights, screeching and striking sparks. With a garbled growl (that sounded out of breath, wheezing; like a dog being choked by its own collar) the boy lifted his arm, beaten and bruised, high into the air –

 – and threw the bag into the flaring furnace.

It burst into flames seconds later; with a mighty roar, the ravenous fire swallowed the small pouch.

Someone shrieked.

Suddenly, the man was no longer handsome – no, like a wolf shedding its stolen wool, his pretty face twisted. Veins bulged under the complexion that was rapidly gaining colour in a flush of anger, and one of the spidery hands (now looking even sharper, the joints and nails seeming even more pronounced than before, skin pulled taunt over the tendons) rushed forwards: it grabbed onto Yuugi’s hair, and twisted.

“ _You…_!”

The man bared his teeth, his upper lip curling as he snarled:

“You _idiot_!”

The hand gripping the boy shook in ill fury.

“Scorching your throat wasn’t good enough a lesson for you, was it?” he growled; a furious scream was barked from between the gleaming ivories – “And looks like burning your feet taught you nothing, either!”

He gave the tuft of hair another yank.

“How _stupid_ can you get!” the man spat as he tore out more and more threads of tangled locks. Fingers coiling, the long nails dug into the abused scalp: “Just how _big_ of an _imbecile_ …!”

Suddenly, he stopped mid-pull, a knot of hair still in his grasp; and the veiny hand moved, about to cradle the back of the boy’s skull –

“…fucking brat.”

The man slammed Yuugi head-first against the side of the hearth.

The bricks were unyielding, bouncing the boy right back up – only for him to be smashed against the stone again –

_tick_

 – and again –

_tock_

 – and again –

_tick_

 – and again –

_CRACK_

There was a sound of something breaking; Yuugi didn’t twitch anymore.

* * *

Atem couldn’t move.

In the fireplace, amidst the glowing embers, the melting gold glinted –

 – like the eye of a snake.

* * *

 

“Atem…damn ya!”

Jounouchi rode as fast as he could. He kicked with his feet to urge his horse to gallop, and his heels dug into the sides of the steed with desperation; he needed more speed! The scenery was already but a blur to him: only muddled colours danced around him as sweat tugged his hair and stung his eyes.

There were people shouting at him ( _“Hey, watch out!” Look at where you’re going!”_ ) but he paid them no mind. The blond could only hear the wind rushing past his ears – it was howling ominously.

Jounouchi gritted his teeth, cursing himself and his stupidity. He should have gone with Atem; he should have pulled himself up there behind the saddle before the prince could have stopped him. To hell with orders – what had he been thinking?!

_It hurt a lot – what ya said. But I know ya, Atem…_

There was a terrible feeling of grim premonition stirring in the blond’s gut, which was only fuelled on by his festering regret. Atem wasn’t stupid; on the contrary, he was the best strategist the kingdom had seen in years! He had had to have a reason for explicitly ordering his friend: the prince must have known how he would react –

Those words had been a very deliberate gamble.

It had worked, too; Atem had prevented Jounouchi from following him, if only for a short while. Thus, the prince had succeeded in his move: and of course he had, for what was the difference between a game and real life? Living tokens, that was one, for sure –

(But why save a simple pawn at the price of a king?  It made no sense; if the king fell, then what was the point to continue? The game would be lost, no matter if all the other pieces were still on the board or not –)

Jounouchi growled.

He should have tried harder; he shouldn’t have let Atem go alone – or at all!

_Why?!_

His fingers were cramped around the reins, clammy and sweating, and his heart pounded against his chest in both fear and anxiety. What if something had happened – what if something _bad_ had happened and he would just be there too late –

He didn’t want that –

_“Mom, please hang on! I-I’m gonna go get the doctor!”_

 – he didn’t want to feel that helpless again –!

They were so near the forest border; the tree tops were already in his sight – and _please,_ just a little _more –!_

The horse under him reared up; Jounouchi cursed, almost falling off the saddle.

“What is it, boy?” he grumbled, looking around to see what had spooked the steed –

He forgot to draw in a breath, nearly choking on air at the sight:

It was Atem – lying at the side of the road.

Jounouchi was on the ground in seconds; with his heart in his throat, he ran up to the prince.

“Atem – _Atem_!” the blond shouted, grabbing the unconscious figure by the shoulders. He pulled the other onto his lap, hands shaking, grasping onto the muddied ballroom suit like a drowning man onto a lifeline – and for one terrifying moment, he thought that the prince might not wake up at all; that the other was now nothing but a roadkill; that he had indeed been too _late_ –

_Please, no…_

Atem opened his eyes.

Jounouchi felt like crying. Tears pushed against the rims of his eyes, threatening to spill over, and he coughed, easing in a gulp of air. He could breathe again, now.

“Ya idiot,” he mumbled, hugging the other so tightly that had the situation been any other, he would easily have been able to snap a bone, “ya stupid… _idiot_!”

The blond could have sat there for a short eternity, content in feeling his friend’s warm and breathing and _living_ body against his own (the rush of relief was so great that he could hardly feel his own legs anymore: he was trembling from head to toe.) However, Atem shook him off, pushing himself upright without a word.

He stood there, unmoving.

“…ya okay?” Jounouchi asked. He gently placed his hand on the prince’s shoulder, still fighting back happy tears –

Atem turned around.

“Yes, Jounouchi…don’t worry…”

He was smiling.

“…in fact, I…”

It was a victorious smile.

“…I feel… **jUst** **FiNE** …”

* * *

 

  **ThE EnD**


End file.
